


Crossfire

by lollipopdiaries



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Arrow, Bratva Oliver Queen, Eventual Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, Gen, POV Felicity Smoak, POV Oliver Queen, Protective Oliver, Russia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollipopdiaries/pseuds/lollipopdiaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. No Arrow, this is a complete re-write on how Oliver met Felicity. Everything about the life of Oliver Queen remains the same all the way to his early days in Russia in a ‘fight club’ setting, those spoilers are just hard to ignore.</p><p>He meets Felicity who in this story is caught up in the underworld of the mafia due to circumstances right after her graduation from MIT. Everything before graduating with honors in MIT still remains as Felicity’s backstory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Author’s Note: It’s that time again for another one of those Bratva fics with Arrow Season 5 fast approaching and with the flashbacks featuring Oliver’s Russia connection it’s going to be an exciting season. As much as we have that to all look forward to, hoping I at least have a few readers who would enjoy following this story which is going to be another one of those ten chapter ones unless this story just totally runs away from me that is.**

**The plot above gives you an insight on what this story is all about and the possibilities of where the journey of our main protagonists Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak may lead too.**

**A big shout out to my twitter friend WalkingOlicity for the poster that showcases the main protagonists characters very well.**

**Would appreciate those notes, comments and kudos. It’s what keeps me on my writing toes.**

**Message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

**Fanfiction – lollipopdiairies**

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* * *

 

_Plot: AU. No Arrow, this is a complete re-write on how Oliver met Felicity. Everything about the life of Oliver Queen remains the same all the way to his early days in Russia in a ‘fight club’ setting, those spoilers are just hard to ignore._

 

_He meets Felicity who in this story is caught up in the underworld of the mafia due to circumstances right after her graduation from MIT. Everything before graduating with honors in MIT still remains as Felicity’s backstory._

 

_Setting is mostly Russia and his journey that leads him to the Bratva._

* * *

 

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Fight Night**

**Chapter 1**

That would leave a mark Oliver thought to himself as he tried to pick himself up from the floor of the makeshift ring.

 

He had been in tougher fights than this, it wasn’t his first one and it wouldn’t be his last.

 

His opponent had been a lot bulkier than him but he had muscled up a bit. Quite a lot actually compared to his days in Starling City.

 

The life he had led in the last four years required him to, whether he liked it or not.

 

He had seen a lot of the world in the last almost four years away from his City. Survived worst.

 

He had just been taken by surprise, a lucky punch to the jaw.

 

Had he not been distracted by the burst of color that swirled by, being pushed by a thug or two to a private room inside this makeshift underground bunker of sorts that had hosted fights just like this off and on, that punch would not have landed squarely on his jaw.

 

He lolled down on his back, lifted his knees and in one practiced move jumped to his feet much to the surprise of his opponent who thought he was down for the count.

 

The crowd who had been silent a few seconds ago erupted in cheers, some were shouting above the noise, several with varying denominations of cash clasped above their heads. Bets were being raised. The stakes were getting higher.

 

Fights like this attracted crowds. Where they came from exactly, he didn’t really know.

 

He was bloodied, one eye blurry. He could feel the slow drip of liquid, probably blood across his cheek but he was numb. The pain of his injuries would be felt later.

 

He was quick on his feet, quicker than the much bigger man and this time without the distraction of earlier he had been able to topple the man off his feet swiftly locking the man in a hold that cut of his oxygen supply, his legs wrapped around the torso of the bigger man, a tried and tested submission move.

 

It would not be enough. He knew.

 

This kind of fight was to the finish. Killed or be killed.

 

At this point in his matches, he had always dug deeper, found reserves and went into a zone that allowed him the advantage of precise moves, killer-instinct dictated.

 

He tested his grip on his opponent’s neck before he pressed, finally breaking the man’s neck.

He stood slowly, pushing the body of his limp foe away, eyeing it as it rolled barely a foot off.

 

Deafening cheers exploded. He barely registered someone lifted his arm in victory.

 

To him this was just a means to an end. He was never into this for the accolades or glory. He needed money to survive in this harsh environment. He also had the skill to be able to ensure he always came out on top. Most importantly, he had the right mindset to get it done, without remorse and guilt. He had long since lost his soul. Lost it somewhere in the bottom of the ocean the day the Gambit sank.

 

While he probably could still have been redeemed a few years back, the kind of life he had led, the people he had since killed. Slowly but surely, what was left of his soul was totally lost forever.

 

* * *

 

“Here’s your cut for the night Queen.”

 

Oliver counted the cash that was handed to him. It would be more than enough to tide him over for a couple of weeks, maybe a month since he barely spent anything anyway.

 

“Next fight is being set up in Kazan, the prize money will be doubled. Heavy weights will be present.”

 

“I’ll think about it.” He answered without a note of commitment.

 

“Queen, you are one of the top draws. You have to be there. The Commandant will be present.”

 

Oliver had gathered him meager things inside his duffle bag and turned to leave without responding.

 

The other man called out to him, “you better be there Queen if you know what’s good for you!”

 

* * *

 

He exited the door with his head down. He really didn’t want to attract attention. All he wanted was to go back to the hole of a room that currently served as his living quarters and nurse his wounds.

 

He walked toward a darkened corner of the alley, the dimly lit area were he had left his means of transport. His bike.

 

He heard a noise. It was faint, very faint.

 

He was prepared to ignore it. This was what he had been doing anyway since leaving Lian Yu for the second time, after than fiasco with Rider and his men.

 

He had made his way to Russia for one reason and one reason alone, his promise to Taiana Venediktov. That promise had been fulfilled a few months back.

 

His first instinct was to hightail out of the country but something was keeping him grounded in the country. His gut was telling him to stay a bit longer. One thing that had always been constant was his gut. His gut instinct had always been the correct one. He had learned to trust his gut more than anything else, anyone else.

 

He appraised his surroundings.

 

His senses were tingling. His gut was once again telling him to look around more thoroughly.

 

He honed his hearing to shut out unnecessary noise something he had learned on the Island. There it was, that faint sound again.

 

A grunt then a groan, someone was out there.

 

“Help me.”

 

He heard a faint whisper then a muffled and very low whisper that normal hearing would never be able to pick up. But his hearing was anything but normal. Not since his island experience.

He trekked deeper into the darkened alley, unsure what to expect but anticipating the worst as always.

 

The first thing his eyes registered was a blur of color, bright against the dark.

 

Then he heard it again, a moan. Then maybe because whoever had registered footsteps, a gasp and then a flurry of clatter.

 

He approached the unknown deliberately.

 

He had no need for a weapon. He was the weapon.

 

What he saw was the last thing he would ever think to ever see, at least not here in this corner of the world.

 

A blond woman, barely in her twenties in a splash of what would have once been a pink and orange dress but was now dirtied and torn in several places, noticeable bruises with a speck of dried blood trailing from her mouth.

 

What the hell had he stumbled on?

 


	2. Without a Trace

**Author’s Note: So overwhelmed. Very much so. Didn’t expect the response to this new fic. This wasn’t my first bratva story and maybe it won’t be the last. Had so much positively across all my mediums: tumblr, Archive of our Own and Fanfiction.**

**Chapter 1 focused on Oliver Queen’s backstory, largely based on what I assumed were his early days in Russia and how it would be written. I saw the fight club photo and everything just developed from there. I hope I did justice in relating his current state of mind and the progressing character development.**

**This chapter will focus on Felicity Smoak. I’ve deemed it necessary to reboot her backstory for this fic to justify her being in Russia. This is AU after all. Her journey merits the same length of attention as Oliver’s because this is not Arrow TV and I’m an equal opportunity shipper. This isn’t just an Oliver-centric plot, it is about both Oliver and Felicity and the journey that brings them toward each other.**

**Had they not been stuck in inserting the Black Canary story line in the TV series, maybe this could have been the canon we would have embraced from the beginning. I know I would have, it was a more organic fit for me. But maybe it was just me. It’s a free country and It’s my opinion after all. However, I’d appreciate a Hell Yeah if you agree.**

**I cannot stress enough how thankful I am to WalkingOlicity for the poster and all of you who have reblogged and shared this story. The word of mouth alone has done wonders for this story.**

**I know my limitations. I’m not the greatest writer. This, as was the case in all my other stories was born out of sheer love for my ultimate OTP.**

**I hope you keep those notes, comments and kudos. It’s what keeps me on my writing toes.**

**Message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

**Fanfiction – lollipopdiairies**

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* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Without A Trace**

**Chapter 2**

She had graduated with top honors at MIT at nineteen years of age, one of the youngest ever and one of the best.

She not only had a double major in cyber security and computer science. She also ranked second in a national wide National Information Technology contest entering last minute because her professors at MIT had nominated her as replacement for another student. Had she had more warning, she was sure she would have won the contest but that was all water under the bridge.

While she was already on the radar of most tech-based companies because of her early accomplishments, ending up runner-up had made her an even more precious gem.

In fact, even before her last term, she had firm offer sheets lined up but had hesitated to accept any of them as of yet. She wasn’t in a hurry. She told herself she had time.

She was wrong, so wrong.

Just a couple of months away from graduation her life had been turned upside down.

Her boyfriend, the man her heart had pegged as her future was unceremoniously arrested by the FBI in a daring campus daylight raid.

She had later found out that among the items taken from his and his roommate’s dorm room were laptops and desktop computers among other tech gadgets that she later found out were part of an operation spearheaded by a professor who had always taken a special interest in Cooper Sheldon and Myron Scott his roommate.

They had been blackmailing government officials and private companies using intel they had acquired from illegal tapping and a code-breaking hacking program that allowed them access to private and confidential emails and information. Her code-breaking program, the one thing she regretted ever authoring because when planted into any computer this virus had the capability of extracting unlimited information, the same one she didn’t know her boyfriend had stolen from her for his use.

She had just left the library building and was making her way back to her boyfriend’s dorm when she first became aware of the commotion. As she was walking, people gave her a wide-berth as they always did because at that time she was still in her goth phase complete with thick black eye-liner, dyed black hair and a complete black ensemble.

MIT was a haven of self-expression. The IQ range of most of the students enrolled had sometimes led to certain quirks and idiosyncrasies and these were tolerated, borderline tolerated.

She kept a steady pace already picturing alternative routes to take to her boyfriend’s dorm if the swarm of people in front of her got unbearable. She had better things to do than waste her time joining the hoard of onlookers curiously watching the scene unfold.

She finally stopped walking when she first heard it. A burst of expletives from a voice that sounded familiar, very familiar. Cooper Sheldon, her boyfriend.

She moved automatically, pushing people out of the way so she could get a better vantage.

She reached the front just in time to hear Cooper shout out something about he being the greatest and that the FBI had nothing on him, a meeker Myron followed behind him, his hands handcuffed behind him.

She ran toward Cooper. It had been unexpected by the FBI that by the time they had reacted she already had both her hands on her boyfriend’s cheeks asking him what was happening in a voice filled with panic and confusion.

“What….wait!”

“Get her away!” She heard probably the senior FBI guy command and she was pulled away from Cooper kicking and screaming.

“Maybe we should haul her off with those two,” another agent suggested. “Seems like she knows the one well.”

The guy Felicity had pegged as the senior agent paused in thought for a moment, gave her a once over, then shook his head, “no we were ordered to take in just those two and that one professor.”

* * *

 

It had been hell week for Felicity after Cooper Sheldon had been taken in.

Slowly, everything had unfolded half via the MIT grapevine and half because she had been ‘interviewed’ by both MIT officials and security officers about her connection and any light she could further shed.

The professor had wisely erased any trace that the program could have on her thinking he would claim the program for himself maybe, this was one-time she was at least thankful to have a professor who was more after his own gain.

What she had learned had made her doubt everything about her relationship with Cooper. Looking back, she had questioned why one of the campus heartthrobs, yeah because in her eyes Cooper was _that_ good looking, had started to take an interest in her, goth her.

As dumb as it made her out to be she finally pieced together the why.

They had shared just one class together. A cyber security class that only students with superior coding skills were allowed to take.

She had presented a capsule version of her code-breaking program that was designed to filter through key words and numbers and finding that combination, allowed access to unlimited data. It was by definition that next level hack program and was considered extremely dangerous in the wrong hands.

Her professor for that course had tried to encourage her to go steps further, developing it into a full program on the side but while she appreciated the interest, she was smart enough to spot warning bells. While she had constantly toed the line between what was legal and beyond legal, what with the skill she had and the kind of blanket reinforcement the school provided, she was also very much aware of the danger.

It was after her rejection of the suggestion of her professor that Cooper and started to seek her out and she had fallen for him, hard.

She had gone through all the stages before she had arrived at the conclusion that she still had her whole life ahead of her. Fuck Cooper Sheldon!

That the FBI had never been able to link her successfully to what her professor, Cooper, Myron and a few other students had going was a blessing.

With recognition that she still had her whole life ahead of her and firmly putting the past behind her, she made a change. One of those life-altering ones that made her more than excited for what the future had in store for her.

With barely two months left before graduation, she went through the job offers she had with renewed vigor. Narrowing it down to a couple of companies that had potential to be innovation giants in the making. Wayne Enterprises and Queen Consolidated.

At the moment, Wayne Enterprises was on the top of her list having had the privilege of being interviewed by _the_ Lucius Fox himself in person.

While she was being offered an almost entry-level position in the company, the way Mr. Fox described her path was very appealing to her. As the innovations in technology leveled-up, so would her career since she would be part of the team from its infancy stage.

She was a little disappointed that Walter Steele had sent a representative instead of flying out himself but she had understood why or at least tried. Queen Consolidated was undergoing more than a few vicissitudes as a corporation. With Robert Queen recently declared presumed-dead together with his son, a major shake-up was happening inside the company. It would be idiotic to demand Walter Steele’s presence given the situation.

She took a moment to think about Robert Queen and his legacy. The man was one of her idols having built QC from the ground and up. She was sorry the man had passed. The son however, she knew nothing about. She didn’t even spare him a second of consideration. What was his name? Orlando? Oscar? Oliver?

She took one last look at herself, her new self, very blond and bespectacled versus her previous very black mane and colored contacts.

She was also dressed completely different from her grunge look. These days she sported more color, preferring a combination of loud colors than normally wouldn’t work well together.

Yeah, these days she radiated a ball of very bright and blinding spectrum.

* * *

 

Seventy-two weeks.

That was how long she had been forced to work for the underground mob.

Hindsight she deduced they had probably been monitoring her activities longer than she thought.

She had her future all mapped out. Had decided surprising in accepting QC’s offer over WE. She was in a taxicab with her two big suitcases. One housed her clothes and shoes, the other carried the same and had a few of her gadgets packed inside. A girl could never have too many tech-related stuff. Beside her she had her laptop and a tablet.

She had been half-asleep when it happened. It was just past three in the morning and she was on her way to the airport to a new life in Starling City.

A throng of black SUV’s not unlike what the FBI had used months back had cornered the taxi she was in.

Her first thought was that her past had continued to haunt her. She could never shake her affiliation with Cooper away.

But then she heard a string of guttural words that definitely did not sound like the American language. Foreign sounding, one of those Eastern European countries.

She had never realized how much of the world she didn’t know until the underworld had gotten to her.

The cab driver was as dead as the countless number of bullet holes in his body.

She had disappeared, vanished without a trace. Forced to erase herself by the mob.

She had no choice in the matter. It wasn’t just her life that was being threatened, so was the life of the mother she loved but had little in common with.

Somehow they had gotten video footage of her mother, several, with different time and day stamps that Felicity had no doubt had not been tampered with.

She had given up her future in exchange for the safety of her mother, a mother she would never see again. The one who would think she had died on her way to the airport because the mob had come prepared. They had a body that was roughly suppose to represent her that they had burned beyond all recognition and camouflaged it by exploding the cab. Inside were the cab driver and an identified woman.

That was the deal.

No one would be searching for her.

No one had reason to.

 

* * *

 

_He appraised his surroundings._

_His senses were tingling. His gut was once again telling him to look around more thoroughly._

_He honed his hearing to shut out unnecessary noise something he had learned on the Island. There it was, that faint sound again._

_A grunt then a groan, someone was out there._

_“Help me.”_

_He heard a faint whisper then a muffled and very low whisper that normal hearing would never be able to pick up. But his hearing was anything but normal. Not since his island experience._

_He trekked deeper into the darkened alley, unsure what to expect but anticipating the worst as always._

_The first thing his eyes registered was a blur of color, bright against the dark._

_Then he heard it again, a moan. Then maybe because whoever had registered footsteps, a gasp and then a flurry of clatter._

_He approached the unknown deliberately._

_He had no need for a weapon. He was the weapon._

_What he saw was the last thing he would ever think to ever see, at least not here in this corner of the world._

_A blond woman, barely in her twenties in a splash of what would have once been a pink and orange dress but was now dirtied and torn in several places, noticeable bruises with a speck of dried blood trailing from her mouth._

_What the hell had he stumbled on?_

She scuttled back until she hit a wall.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Felicity heard the voice of the silhouette of a very large man who seemed even larger because of her angle looking up from the floor.

American. Definitely the accent was American, quite rare on this side of the world.

He looked burly enough to be a thug but then again Russian were very particular about their operations. They wouldn’t just invite anyone into the fold.

No, this man was definitely not part of the mob.

Unlike her, she was very much part of the organization. She had been transported from the US to the heart of the mob operations because her skills had proven to be an undeniable asset.

Oh she still had days of insurgence. Days when she woke up and felt like she wanted to rebel but always the mob had dangled her mother’s life above her head.

Just earlier today she had been tasked to erase all documentation of a large shipment of drugs that was to dock in US territory in a few hours. Her little mutiny had resulted in the delay in the delivery of shipment costing the mob millions and her, a few souvenir bruises.

Oh they never went further than a few bumps and scratches, she was an important part of the operation, almost irreplaceable actually.

She was expected to brush of her physical injuries as job hazard and report for work the next day like it was nothing.

“Who’s there? Come out.”

Because her curiosity had gotten the better of her, because she had missed hearing that accent and it had so felt like home, she carefully pushed herself by her hands from the floor to her feet stepping forward tentatively until she was finally face to face with the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life.

“Oh.”

 

* * *

 

_Eeeep. Checking myself for physical injuries incase someone tried to stab me for stopping here._

 

 


	3. From the Edge of Darkness

**Author's Note: Once again all you dear readers surprised me with all the love for this story. Keep them coming because I read each and everyone of them.**

**If you want to be tagged as soon as this story or any of my other stories are posted, please send me a DM thru my twitter account (details below) so I can tag you, same as the others who have requested a tag.**

**Since you've read the two previous chapters you'd know that they were dedicated to creating backstories for both Oliver and Felicity. Since this deviates a lot from the Arrow TV version notably in Felicity's backstory, it was a necessary preface for all of us to be on the same page so to speak.**

**Now that had been established, this story gets exciting.**

**Remember that the timeline of this story begins from the time Oliver leaves Lian Yu following the end of Season 4 of Arrow TV and takes another direction from there since I totally changed Felicity's backstory. As the chapters progress, Oliver eventually crosses paths with Anatoli again that eventually leads to his Bratva journey.**

**I however have to warn you, the pacing of the story development will be deliberate and any romance will be slow burn.**

**Last note, it is becoming clear to me that this story is going to be longer than my 10 chapters which I had previously thought. With so much story to tell, it's apparent that so much story is still to be written.**

**If you love this story, please give my other stories some love too. I'm currently updating another Olicity fic – Undercover. The others are on hiatus since with my full-time job and a life. I can realistically work on just two stories at a time and the occasional one-shot.**

**Anyway, here goes chapter 3.**

**Message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

**Fanfiction – lollipopdiairies**

**Ao3 – lollipopdiaries**

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* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 3 – From the Edge of Darkness**

_She scuttled back until she hit a wall._

_"I won't hurt you."_

_Felicity heard the voice of the silhouette of a very large man who seemed even larger because of her angle looking up from the floor._

_American. Definitely the accent was American, quite rare on this side of the world._

_He looked burly enough to be a thug but then again Russians were very particular about their operations. They wouldn't just invite anyone into the fold._

_No, this man was definitely not part of the mob._

_Unlike her, she was very much part of the organization. She had been transported from the US to the heart of the mob operations because her skills had proven to be an undeniable asset._

_Oh she still had days of insurgence. Days when she woke up and felt like she wanted to rebel but always the mob had dangled her mother's life above her head._

_Just earlier today she had been tasked to erase all documentation of a large shipment of drugs that was to dock in US territory in a few hours. Her little mutiny had resulted in the delay in the delivery of shipment costing the mob millions and her, a few souvenir bruises._

_Oh they never went further than a few bumps and scratches, she was an important part of the operation, almost irreplaceable actually._

_She was expected to brush of her physical injuries as job hazard and report for work the next day like it was nothing._

_"Who's there? Come out."_

_Because her curiosity had gotten the better of her, because she had missed hearing that accent and it had so felt like home, she carefully pushed herself by her hands from the floor to her feet stepping forward tentatively until she was finally face to face with the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life._

_"Oh."_

"Will you stop following me!"

Despite her assurances that she was fine he continued to saunter along, he couldn't just not keep on following her. The fact that he had left his bike in the alley and continued to follow her for several blocks wasn't lost on both of them.

Lian Yu and his experience had definitely changed him. While he didn't go around feeling responsible for just every woman he encountered, he had felt a strong connection with a few during the last few years. Shado, Tatsu Yamashiro, Taiana and even Sara Lance.

It wasn't necessarily romantic love that he felt, in fact for so long he couldn't define exactly what made him gravitate toward certain women, until recently. It was the quiet strength in women that he found attractive.

His attraction equaled respect for these types of women. In all of them he found the strength of a warrior in them. Like they were more than capable of taking anyone and everything by themselves, of course some more capable than others.

The woman in front of him who was obviously in pain but winging it in 3-inch heels and a worst for wear pink and orange bright dress was a perfect example of that.

What took Oliver by surprise was how instantaneous and without question his connection felt with the woman who had barely said a few words to him. Reluctantly even acknowledged him and carried on as if she could take on the world all by herself and come up on top without anyone's help.

He was sensitive enough to know his aid was unwelcome, but he couldn't just walk away. Instead, he quickened his steps so he could be side by side with her.

"You can barely walk straight."

She stopped and turned to face him.

"I'm perfectly fine." She protested again. "It's just my three-inch heels really and it's been a very long day."

"I'm just going to see you safely to your door then I'll be on my way then. It's the gentleman thing to do."

Felicity gave him an unladylike scoff, "chivalry. In another life that would be cute. But not in this one, not in this world." She pirouetted and started to walk again but not before the end of her barely there anymore ponytail hit him right in the jaw as if it had a life of it's own.

Yeah, he really needed to ice his jaw if something as innocent as a ponytail smacking his jaw could hurt like hell. Damn the woman! Didn't see get that he was actually helping her!

Anyone who had eyes would take one look at her and see what he was seeing. While minor, the cuts and bruise showing on the side of her cheek where definitely not the result of her stumbling as she had first declared. That plus the obvious way she had been stroking her left side told him from his very vast assortment of past injuries that she had recently been beaten, very recently.

Not quite tortured. But definitely she had been struck.

"This is my stop. None the worst for wear, very much alive and definitely breathing so you can chalk up one for the knight and shinning armor crew, this damsel" pointing to herself for emphasis, "will definitely live to survive another day."

He stopped just a couple of feet away from her giving her a once-over as if cataloging her injuries again. "I know you lied. Those injuries aren't really consistent with a fall."

She huffed in annoyance, "and who are you to say, the pain police? Just leave it. And leave me alone. Just go. Go!" She raised a finger and pointed it at no particular direction.

"I'm not just going to leave you looking like that," Oliver gestured with a sweeping hand a few inches away from her body. "At least let me clean those and wrap your rib. The way you were moving I can tell it was just bruised, not broken but if it isn't properly taken cared of it will hurt like hell in a few hours."

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest, inhaling heavily because she had inadvertently smacked her arm over her injury, making her wince in pain. Maybe she really needed his help. While she had been 'beaten' a few times, this one was a little more brutal. It really was starting to throb.

But as much as she appreciated the good samaritan gesture, she was also wary. The last few weeks had taught her to be. Being involved with her could get the other person in harms way, maybe killed. On top of everything else, she would never want that on her conscience.

"Fine."

She frowned as soon as she blurted out the word because something was definitely wrong with her brain and mouth coordination.

She stepped back and did not move at all.

"Please, let me help you then I'll be on my way. I promise. I wouldn't even ask any questions."

With another loud puff, Felicity turned and made her way toward the double glass doors that served as the building entrance pausing for just a second to look back a sign that he took as her acknowledgement to him to follow.

Oliver's eyes scoped the motel room, because it definitely not an apartment. She had a luggage that was on one side, open. An assortment of clothes neatly folded inside while a few dresses hanged from steel casement window handles.

Beyond the bed was an open doorway, a tiny bathroom where he could clearly see women's under garments hanging to dry.

He lowered his duffel bag on the floor of the tiny room, searching for a chair where she could be more comfortable before he begun his task. Finding none, he gestured for her to take a seat on top of the bed.

After a few seconds of stare down she began to slump down on the bed rolling her eyes as if to insist she was fine and he was being overly dramatic until midway down she suddenly gave out a tortured grunt then pressed her hand to her side in obvious pain.

In less than a second, Oliver was at her side with knees bent on the floor his hand over hers without he even being aware of it.

"Oh God! That hurt so bad, so bad…..," Felicity said grabbing his hand in a deadly grip before she lowered her head on top of his shoulder sucking in a breath.

If someone was looking at them right now with Oliver on his knees cradling her bruised ribs with care while his other hand was still being held in a bone-crunching grip and she leaning in to him for comfort, they would probably come to a very different conclusion.

In some ways the way they held on to one another was intimate.

To his credit it had been quite a long while the last time he had gotten laid, not that there was lack of any volunteers, an impressive string of wins in a bare-knuckles kind of arena brought along the usual groupies. The thrill of casual sex wasn't attractive to him in anyway anymore.

Really, there was nothing intimate about the moment. Not when they both were focused on something else. Not when they didn't even know each other's name, they were practically strangers.

Yeah, he should probably fix that oversight soon.

"Oliver."

Still focused on getting her breathing back in order, she could only merit a, "what?"

"Oliver, my name. It's Oliver."

"Oh, okay," finally comfortable enough to lift her head from his shoulder.

"You know, civilized protocol dictates that in like manner you return the favor by stating your name."

Using her free hand to gesture around them, "as you can see, there is nothing civilized about this. For someone who chose a life one rung up from being a mercenary, I'm surprised you have any type of proper manners in you."

Oliver leaned back, repositioning himself on his hunches before he answered, "ah so you did recognize me earlier."

"It took me a few minutes, the shirt was off the last time and you were all sweaty," she said breathlessly in remembrance as if she was affected and because of their distance from one another, he could clearly discern a blush creeping up from her neck before she continued, "but the bruises on you face are a dead giveaway."

He eyed her with renewed interest. He was right the first time. She was a strong woman. But on top of that, she was also a woman who had all her will and her wit solidly intact despite the obvious beat down.

Truth was, they were already walking for a full block when he realized that the woman before him was the same one who had distracted him for a nanosecond during the fight that had given his opponent the opportunity to sneak in a blow.

She was the same woman being pushed by a thug into an interior room. That while he was giving his opponent a beat down she was also being beaten down. The realization of the parallels made him suck in a breath. If the thug was any indication, maybe it wasn't just bruised ribs after all, maybe it was broken ribs that was making it difficult for her to breathe.

* * *

 

He had gathered his things together and was in the process of zipping up his duffel bag more than an hour later done with his nursing task and ready to leave when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. Without even turning around, he could feel her eyes boring into him.

"What?" He asked without turning around.

He could hear her huff and a slight shifting of the bed before she answered, "why do you do it? Chose the way of life you have?"

He stood up and turned to face her before answering, "it pays well."

Confusion marred his face as she gestured for him to come closer. He awkwardly took a seat on the bed by her side, her feet spread out in front of her with her back against pillows.

Before he knew what was happening, she had reached out a hand and had her thumb and pointer finger locking his chin as she shifted his face side to side her eyes busy cataloguing.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

He couldn't breath, he couldn't even move because right then her thumb started to trace his jaw zoning in on the discoloration that was now becoming obvious. He leaned into her touch without even being aware of it, her touch soothing him.

"No amount of money is worth this," she whispered almost to herself although his honed hearing picked up her words while she continued to stroke his jaw before moving her thumb to his cheek.

She stroked steadily for about a minute until it finally dawned on her what she was actually doing and she froze, the palm of her hand still on his cheek although unmoving at that point.

The next instant her eyes flew to his, their gazes locked both of them unwilling to move, unable to breathe at least until very slowly she started to pull her hand away from his cheek, her eyes now wandering around looking at everything else but his until an involuntary groan escaped from him in response to her pulling her hand away from his cheek.

A groan that had her eyes back on his, big round eyes frozen staring back at him making him entirely anxious to the point that he abruptly stood up and cleared his throat mumbling an 'I have to go' before picking up his bag with one hand and reaching for the knob with the other.

Her next words, "Ol…Oliver, it didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," stopped him.

All he could manage was one quick glance backward before he answered her, "you didn't. I…I just have to go."

He could feel her stare at his back, his hand still on the knob that he still hadn't turned.

"Oh okay. Thank you then, couldn't let you leave without thanking my hero because what you did is good, helping out a stranger. Helping me. You're a good man. And…if I don't get to see you again I hope you have a good life…..and you stay safe…..and think about another career that doesn't involve getting that beautiful face of yours ruined."

She thinks I have a beautiful face. He felt lighter at her words but then remembered why he was there in the first place, his face turning grim once again.

"I could offer you the same advice. Whatever it is you're caught up with, reconsider it."

Expecting a response back, he continued to pause holding the knob but recognizing he wasn't going to get any further response he just shook his head in frustration and begun to turn the knob of her door looking over his shoulder one last time to witness her in deep thought as if contemplating something heavy.

His eyes feasted on her as if memorizing everything about her without her being aware of it all.

His heart was noticeably heavier, his step hesitant but he knew there was nothing else he could do at this point but take his leave.

The creak of the door finally removed her from her daze in time to see him halfway out the door.

"It's Felicity."

He paused without turning.

"My name…..it's Felicity."

The only visible sign that he had heard her was the slow nodding of his head before he completely stepped out of the room and closed her door with finality with him on the other side.

_Felicity. She gave him her name._

As he stepped out into the night, the heavy feeling he had earlier seemed to lift. Somehow he had convinced himself that sometime, somewhere into the future he would see her again.

He would see Felicity again.


	4. Necessary Evil

**Author's Note: This one's a long chapter. Mostly arcs to set up the chapters ahead. A lot of this chapter will focus on Felicity and the Bratva, which unfortunately features less Oliver. I promise the next one has lots of Oliver and Felicity interaction. You'll know why by the end of this chapter.**

**Again, many thanks to those who took the time out to write me messages, re-blogged this story and sent kudos my way, the response via Tumblr and Archive of Our Own for this story has been overwhelming.**

**My warmest gratitude too to my twitter friends who shared the link I post for every chapter. You know who you are.**

**I said this before, and I'm saying this again. I seem to write best when I'm at a Starbucks and nursing a cup of coffee or tea, it depends on the time of day.**

**Oh and it might be weird, but I tried to do away with the bulk of the dialogue in the russian language so the story maintains its fluidity.**

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* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 4 – Necessary Evil**

He was breathing hard, pushing himself.

It was a necessary evil.

He needed to be in the best shape of his life if he was going against one of the biggest draws of the underground fight club in a couple of days.

He was half distracted already. Hadn't had a full night of sleep and by full night he meant a full three hours during the past week, his mind still on the mysterious Felicity.

Dammit! He had thought he was past it, had been in full control of himself in every possible way. But then Felicity happened.

During the last few nights he had woken up in a sweat, his cock hard and overly sensitive. He had to result to stroking himself more than once because it had become totally impossible not to.

Somewhere out there, she was somewhere out there.

All he had was a name and a face and the hard reality of not knowing if she was alive.

Despite his own hard and fast rule of keeping to himself and staying away of other peoples business, he had knowingly and intentionally broken his own rule.

It was impossible not to even if she obviously did not want nor need his help.

Even if he barely registered with her, she had resonated on him.

She was in his thoughts even if they were unwanted. Then again maybe he was just deluding himself believing they were unwanted because damn it, she was there. She occupied a quiet corner of his mind that had become hers and hers alone.

So yeah, he was doing reverse pull-ups way over the hundreds because of her, Felicity.

The woman he wanted to see again and at the same time hoped to forget.

The later sentiment was a lot better, for him. If only so he could get back into the rhythm he had set for himself, a solitary life, a party of one.

But against his better judgment, he had agreed to a fight for the sole purpose of hopefully encountering her again, Felicity.

It was logical, he argued with himself for probably the hundredth time. She was somehow mixed up with the people behind this fight club. Her being there, being brought into a backroom, ending up injured but not exactly life threatening.

Her taking everything-him, her injures, what was happening inside the club, all in stride as if this wasn't new to her, as if it wasn't the first and it wouldn't be the last time.

This was her world somehow.

The darkness. The backrooms. The occasional beat down.

Maybe he did need to have his head checked.

It was one thing to voluntarily put yourself out there as a fighter. But it was another thing all together to deliberately put ones self directly in the line of fire of the mob who he knew was behind this underground fight club.

Just one of the many, many money-making schemes of the mob, the Russian mob.

* * *

 

"Иди сюда, один маленький" (Come here, little one.)

Felicity nimbly walked toward the big man who had always reminded her of Tom Selleck, mustache and all.

He was a kind, old man. Not quite a Captain as she learned in mob lingo was equal to the rank of a general, but more of an administrator. He wasn't a muscle man but he was the one she had almost always dealt with since she was flown to the country a few months ago.

He had crude knowledge of the modern world, preferring a two-way radio over a cellular phone but despite his preference, she knew he had one stowed away if only because it was the means of contact he had with her and the others.

As was promised her after her beat up over a week ago, she was allowed three days of rest as had been the standard practice after each 'session' then she would return to work on the fourth day.

Today, they were tasked to monitor a shipment of guns that was en route to London and another shipment of drugs that was scheduled to arrive at North America in a fortnight.

As usual, her task was to erase all traces of the shipments and the money trail creating a jigsaw of alternate cyber footprints in their wake just to confound whomever was monitoring them.

Oh, she wasn't only good. She was the best.

Ever since they had gotten her on board, anything she touched ha remained undiscovered.

She was so good that others like her had become dispensable even for oh so minor mistakes.

She had become the mobs secret weapon of sorts, untouchable, except for the occasion minor beat up that resulted from her sporadic impulses to test her so called employers.

Yuri, her Tom Selleck look-a-like sort of boss had given her instructions.

There would be some kind of mob convention in in a few days where all Captains would be in attendance. It was to serve as the moment for each Captain to one-up each other to their Commandant, the Russian pakhan, supreme underground leader, vying for security of tenure among other things because the mob was not exactly high on hazard pay.

It was going to take place in Kazan, a progressive city in Russia.

Their division, if that was what hey even were called, was not pulling any punches at all. Around her the room, which had served like a satellite office of sorts, had been buzzing with activity.

From what she gathered, Yuri and the other senior foot soldiers were making final preparations for reports on all mob related activities which they apparently would be reporting on.

In that oh so secret mob convention.

Yuri, with a 6-man team, her and an accountant would make the journey to Kazan.

She had been warned about what to do and what not do as well as how she should conduct herself.

The mob did not employ a lot of women especially not in sensitive positions save for a few with specialized skills like her.

Apparently she occupied a certain rank in the mob, duh.

* * *

 

Felicity gave herself one last once over in the mirror before she nodded to her two mob guards that she was ready to go.

Apparently black was the color of the day or was it the year in the mob and will she had fair warning on proper mob conduct, nothing was said about attire for a mob convention, hence her splash of yellow was in complete contrast with the rest of the convention attendees.

Except it wasn't your typical convention, nope.

The usual convention staples like the buffet, an array of snacks and drinks were nowhere in sight in their place was vodka, lots of it. Some whiskey. Cuban cigars. A variety of high-powered guns and an army of foot soldiers most of who were occupied with playing a game of cards strategically positioned outside completed the ensemble.

It was a set-up similar to the movies.

A very long table was located in the middle of the room with twenty seats on each side. Yuri had told her each seat belonged to a Captain. And at the head of the table was the seat of honor. It was the place of the Commandant, the leader of the mob himself. The pakhan. Anatoli Kynazev.

His lieutenants would occupy both of his sides. They were a place of honor, vied for by the Captains.

The Captains themselves were not necessarily locals, some of them held territories for the mob outside of Russia like Europe and the Americas.

Yuri was presently seated against the wall, right behind the chair designated for the Moscow Captain who had to still show his face. Right beside Yuri was where Felicity was seated and to her right was the mild-mannered accountant of the Moscow contingent.

Maybe because she was the one splash of color against the predominantly black-attired group she had been somewhat stared at by the men and a few women present in the gathering.

The absentee Moscow Captain had finally made his appearance gesturing for Yuri to come forward completely ignoring both the accountant and Felicity, which suited her just fine.

The Moscow Captain turned out to be quite an old and weathered man, barely able to stand in attention for more than a few minutes. It was more than apparent that the days of her Captain were numbered and judging by the calculated glances of some of the younger men, they knew it.

She wouldn't put it past them to be eyeing the position. Even seasoned Captains would probably welcome the spot given that Moscow was the center of the mob operations.

Finally all of the Captains and their delegations had arrived and all that was missing was the pakhan himself.

If Felicity was expecting a grand entrance by the supreme leader of the mob she would have found his arrival wanting.

He had waved all formalities aside and had taken his assigned seat without any ceremony.

What followed during the next three hours was just like what she imagined would happen in any corporate environment with Captains reporting on bottom-lines and territories as well as various interests, most if not all of them illegal or nefarious from drugs, to prostitution, to illegal logging, to arms dealing, to supporting banana republics, corrupt politicians and more of the like.

Yeah there was big money in the underground economy. Trillions if the figures were to be believed and she was 100% sure that was true since more a third of the money trail passed through her given who she was in the organization.

At some point in the largely boring meeting, at least to her, the pakhan had called for a break welcomed by Felicity because she was sure she was developing a cramp from sitting down too long.

She however had to curb her enthusiasm for the welcome break when one of the lieutenants had gone over to Ivan Lenkov the Moscow Captain with a message from the pakhan.

Which was how Felicity found herself just a few feet away from the pakhan in a heavily guarded private room that screamed clock and dagger complete with the stale smoke smell.

The pakhan was seated opposite Ivan who was flanked by Yuri and Russo, the accountant on either side of him, that left her seated between Yuri and the pakhan himself.

The four men who were talking numbers, big numbers, which was perfectly fine with her because she was content drinking her cup Turkish coffee, an indulgent recent discovery until, "Felicity Smoak, Yuri had told me you have been quite a miracle worker," the pakhan said in a very heavy accent as a way of introduction turning to her.

She choked. Almost but not quite spitting out the content of her loved coffee, which had her flushing as she turned round eyes at the supreme leader. She would have dropped her cup had it not been for the very quick reflexes of the pakhan.

Her cup however still was a third full which meant the pakhan had been splashed in his arm with some of her coffee which was a bad, bad thing judging from the multiple gasps coming from not only the people around the table but the guards surrounding them.

Yeah, she was making quite a first impression or maybe it was a last impression because did people get shot to death for splattering the pakhan with coffee?

"Oh God, sorry. I'm sorry." She started to reach out as if to wipe away the splatter but then pulled her hands back the next second. There was some kind of protocol about touching the pakhan she recalled.

There was a moment of silence. A long minute or at least that was what it felt like before the pakhan finally laughed. It started low and slow and then it picked up steam leading up to a booming laughed that had the other men in the room joining in.

Whether the other men were actually sincere or not, she couldn't tell as she continued to be frozen in place barely moving, her eyes still on the supreme leader.

"Ah, you have made quite a first impression умница, one that would be hard for me to forget." The pakhan said slapping his hand on top of the table for emphasis.

And okaaay, whatever умница meant, it must be not bad, because she was still alive and kicking rather than dead, which was always much better. The image of a bullet in between her eyes momentarily hit her sending a chill down her spine, or maybe she just watched too many spy movies.

The way old man Ivan however was looking at her was a little too direct for her liking, like she was some kind of museum piece that had caught his eye. Because Ivan was quite old he was squinting at her, which made her even more uncomfortable.

"Юрий говорит мне эта женщина хорошо, очень хорошо . И ценность для организации (Yuri tells me this woman is good, very good. And valuable to the organization)," Ivan turned to the pakhan as if making a point his voice barely a whisper given his age but the pakhan seemed to agree with what the old captain was saying since he had nodded his head in agreement. So did Yuri, whose name Felicity was sure she had heard as part of the conversation.

She really, really should learn the language if she was to remain in the employ of the mob for a long time.

"I am quite old. I have been remising in my duties as Captain. I have not had the privilege of working with this young woman who has done wonders for us even if it is mostly against her will." Ivan continued in an even weaker voice, his hand noticeably shaking as he lifted it to make a point, "it is time my old friend."

Felicity belatedly realized what this special meeting was about.

They were retiring a Captain, one who by her estimation had been with the mob for a very long time, a loyal and dedicated officer in the mob, and a good friend to the pakhan. Judging by the age difference between the Captain and the pakhan, it seemed like the Captain had been in the organization long before Anatoli Kynazev had been appointed supreme leader.

"May I have the list, my friend?" Anatoli lifted a hand. Upon Ivan's nod, Yuri removed a carefully folded white sheet of paper from inside his jacket and handed it to the pakhan.

The pakhan studied the list carefully. It only contained one name.

She knew that because Anatoli had lowered the paper on the table, a single name was typed on the sheet of paper, Nigel Hoff.

From what Felicity had gathered earlier, because she had been listening at least during the introductions of the Captains, Nigel Hoff was the Captain of Irkutsk, a small town in Russia with a population of only a few thousands, hardly in the league of Moscow, Saint Petersberg or even Novosibirsk.

But there was no doubt in her mind the man was ambitious, he was clearly not lacking in confidence with the way he was grandstanding earlier. From what she gathered he was born to a Russian father and a German mother and from Anatoli's reaction, or lack of it, old man Ivan's recommendation wasn't exactly something the pakhan seemed to be agreeable to.

"Yuri, why do you choose to disregard what is inevitable?" Anatoli questioned the man beyond her gently.

The rebuke was very clear but Yuri just shrugged, "I am humble enough to accept I may not be the best man for the job, specially not for Moscow where our interests are plenty. My skills have always been suited for other aspects of our operations, one that requires more diplomacy and less brutality."

"It has not escaped my attention that you have been managing the Moscow operations for a sufficient number of months now Yuri, despite your reluctance our operations in Moscow have flourished and it was done as you say with more diplomacy and less bloodshed. As I had said times are changing, the business is evolving. The era for diplomacy is here. I say we embrace it."

"You give me very little choice Anatoli," Yuri answered him grudgingly.

The pakhan smiled, "I give you no choice. Nigel is good, but he is not you, Yuri. Even Ivan will agree with me. As we agreed, Ivan will officially stay on until the end of the month. From there you will assume the Captain position from him, which leaves us with a vacancy for your position, one that needs to be filled sooner than later."

Anatoli glanced at Felicity again before he glanced back at both Ivan and Yuri, "now that things are clearer for our Moscow operations, I just have one more personal matter to deal with, if you will gentlemen."

Without wasting another second, "Ivan, Yuri and Russo the accountant all stood up. Thinking that this was her cue too, Felicity hastily stood up and almost jumped the next second as the pakhan held her arm, "not you my dear. You are the last matter I have to deal with."

"Oh," she said confusion marring her face as she took guidance from Yuri who gave her a father-like nod.

She slowly sat down again left with no choice as the other men exited leaving her with the supreme leader and just one lieutenant in the dimly lit room. Her expression might have given her away because once again her mind had wandered back to those spy movies where many had been killed in similar settings, but then Analoli spoke again as if reading her mind.

"You have nothing to fear from me, умница. My intentions are pure, at least as pure as can be given what we do. I will be very honest with you, I do not usually do things like this, talk to underlings. I leave it to my Captains to run their operations. That is the way I have always been, trust is a cornerstone of organization and my Captains have earned my trust. You are a special case. What you bring to us, for the Bratva has been invaluable. Even I am not adverse to admit that, though I am aware you are not with us of your own free will. I apologize for the circumstances of the hows and whys that have brought you all the way here in our neck of the woods, so to speak. There are situations that make it imperative that people with skills like yours to be part of our world, of your own free will or not. Of course, we prefer it be freewill."

Anatoli paused, as if to gauge her reaction. She however just continued to stare at him as if absorbing his words.

"The world is evolving and like any other we need to keep up. I am an old world man, much of the modern world I do not understand. This new technology you young people have embraced to easily, this I-Phone," he held his hand up to show her his phone, "умница, our survival depends a lot on being able to use this new technology to our advantage. Gone are the days where all you needed was brut force."

She nodded her head in agreement, because what he had been saying made sense. It was accurate, his assessment.

Beyond that she didn't know how to react, what he expected of her. He was correct after all. It was against her will to be where she was. Granted she had accepted her fate months back and had built a new life based on what was accorded her, she was paid for her services after all. At least enough that she had food to eat, clothes to wear and a place to sleep, nothing extravagant of course she didn't need it with the lifestyle she currently led. The main luxury she enjoyed were clothes, not even her drab working conditions could alter her need for color.

"With Yuri moving up as Captain, there will necessarily be shake-up in several arenas." Anatoli continued startling Felicity who was deep in thought.

If she thought Anatoli was generally amiable based on what she witness earlier, now she was seeing a flipside to the Bratva's supreme leader because now that her complete attention was back on the man, she couldn't help but notice the piercing calculation of the man's gaze on her.

She swallowed because the man just continued to gawp.

She had to replay the last part of the pakhan's message in her mind to determine if he was waiting for her to say something back, if she needed to say anything.

"Ummmm…"

"умница, when I leave here tomorrow, you will be coming with me. You will be reassigned."

"Reassigned?"

"Yes reassigned. Working directly under me."

"Oh."

* * *

 

He was ready.

He was in a zone.

The undercard fights had begun already. Based on what was on his card, he was the main event fight.

He and the man known only as The Giant, a legend in the underground given that the man had not yet lost a fight.

It was Oliver's true test, A test of his abilities to be up against the Giant.

Oliver's name was whispered across the fight club enthusiasts as the new generation star. He had never lost a fight himself.

But going up against a great, the greatest, the Giant. It was suicide.

The Giant had never lost a fight yet. And he had been fighting for years. Much, much longer than Oliver.

Oliver really couldn't blame anyone else but himself. He had walked into this with eyes open.

He had walked into this because of a ridiculous reason.

It was with the hope that he would once again catch a glimpse of the woman who he couldn't get out of his mind. Felicity.

* * *

 

Whatever happened after that talk with Anatoli had floated past Felicity.

The day had dragged on as the mob convention continued.

It was almost nine in the evening when finally the convention was determined over and a complete success. As part of the planned capping activities, everyone was ushered into the lower section of the building, a lower basement that was the setting of featured heavyweight fight club matches.

Unknown the Felicity, one of the matches would feature the man who had nursed her a week ago, the man who introduced himself as Oliver.


	5. Shot in the Dark

**Author's Note: Eeeekkkk. Yeah, that's all I have to say with the show of support I am getting for this story. If you loved the first four chapters, this one is even better. I think I left it of at the right moment to set up the next chapter.**

**I know a lot of you were waiting for Oliver, Felicity and Anatoli to finally be in the same setting, well, it's going down in this chapter. And I am so excited!**

**Enjoy and don't forget to message me thru any of the following:**

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* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 5 – Shot it the Dark**

He couldn't keep still.

Not for a second.

There was still one pre-fight on going so he knew he had at least a few minutes more before his fight, the main event of the night.

The promoter had come in a few minutes ago and informed him that they have a few special people in the audience tonight. Very special people, the Russian mob top echelon, the Bratva.

Oliver had allowed his mind to wonder a few years back to the time he had met Anatoli Kynazev.

Anatoli at that time had been a prisoner of Anthony ivo, the man who had set in motion so many deaths in Lian Yu including some that Oliver chose not to relive at present time.

He wondered if the Russian mob leader would remember him and almost immediately dismissed the question. Of course he would, the man had appointed him Captain, a rank that was much coveted within the mob for saving Anatoli's life.

he knew that at some point he would come face to face with the mob leader, he was in Russia after all. The chances were very high.

What he didn't expect was for it to be happening this soon.

Sure, he was aware that the people he worked for, the people who surrounded the kind of work he was into knew he was a Captain of the Bratva, it was emblazoned on his chest after all, the mark of the Bratva although none of them had spoken or asked about it out loud.

But they knew what the tattoo stood for.

In fact, the tattoo gave Oliver the added advantage of being feared, at least enough not be double-crossed or short-changed.

A Captain sweating it out in the underground fight clubs, he was almost 100% sure that even Anatoli would have heard about it by now. Word does travel fast in this kind of environment.

It seemed like in more ways than one, things were about to come to a head tonight.

Oliver just didn't know how much.

* * *

 

"Oh, I can't look!" Felicity covered her eyes with her hand but had her fingers spread out so she could still peak out if she wanted to. "Ohhh, that's a great move. Good one."

"Yuri and Anatoli were both smiling. Not because of the match that was happening in front of them but because of the woman who was seated between them. To say she wasn't entertaining was an understatement.

It had been awkward to begin with when Anatoli, his lieutenants, captains and a few key ranking members of the mob where ushered to their seats.

She had found herself seated in the front row, between Anatoli and Yuri. The seat she had occupied had been Ivan's, the officially retired Moscow mob captain who had headed home as soon as his retirement had been announced by the pahkan himself before the end of the mob convention.

The way the convention ended had been a little bit controversial, or at least that was Felicity's take away given how Nigel Hoff had walked out of the room threatening everyone, particularly Anatoli when his coveted Moscow captain position was awarded to Yuri.

Unfazed by the threat, Anatoli had continued his planned activity for the night, watching the crude fight.

Just when Felicity was about to be seated beside Russo, the Moscow accountant, the lieutenant had caught her elbow and had pointed her toward Anatoli who was gesturing for her to join him.

Apparently, since she was going to be working directly under the pakhan, which had also been announced during the convention, she now enjoyed certain privileges, like getting premium seating.

Felicity had never been one for violence which technically man-to-man combat was, but after a few awkward minutes she actually was into it save for when the hits became oh so violent even for her tastes.

In college, while in her rebel stage she had spent a large number of days and nights completing online in something similar. At that time, she was into her Lara Croft stage and was competing online. An online game did not require her to train and hone her body for real physical combat but rather to hone her eye and finger coordination skill. More than often, she ended up the victor against online opponents.

The difference between computer generated opponents and what she was watching right now was a million times better or worst, depending on how much gore one could really take.

In truth, she was a little bit queasy. A couple of times, spurts of blood and sweat almost landed on her, being seated where she was. But she had to admit she was quite enjoying the show. That should say something about her. Maybe she was adjusting to the mob life faster than she thought.

A chorus of shouts echoed as a hand was finally raised in victory. The fight was over.

God bless the soul of the man whose life was spared. The defeated man had to be carried out.

Felicity was at least relieved to know this wasn't one of those fights that were to the finish. The rules had apparently been relaxed since only the top underground fighters were featured tonight. Not even for entertainment was the mob willing to loose any of their top draws.

"The next fight should prove interesting." Anatoli leaned gesturing to a program that was in his hand.

"Oh?" Yeah that was all she could come up with because what do you say, really?

As if her answer was engaging, the pakhan continued to converse with her, "it is actually a surprise, a pleasant surprise for me. One of the men in the main fight I had encountered before. A few years back."

"You used to be a fighter?" Felicity asked him confused.

Anatoli laughed at her confusion, "not quite my dear. Although I could probably give a lot of them a run for their money, this old man has some skills."

"Oh I don't doubt that." Felicity answered. One thing she knew about the mob was that no one rose up the ranks by sheer brains alone. Nope. Brut force was what worked best, was most effective. She had no doubt Anatoli could go toe-to-toe with anyone, even someone half his age and come up victories. He wasn't the Bratva pakhan for nothing.

"Thank you умница, you are very kind. I have history with one of the men competing tonight. He is one of us, a bratva man. He carries the rank of Captain but with no territory of his own. It is a title he has earned."

"Oh. Are there many like him. Captains without territories I mean?"

"He is the only one at the moment."

"Then I guess he's the one we're rooting for then." Felicity said without hesitation. Yeah she was definitely adjusting to mob life nicely.

* * *

 

Cheers and jeers erupted as the announcer introduced the first man known only as 'the Giant' and was currently warming up the crowd by listing down the accolades of the challenger, the man the pakhan had bestowed the rank of Captain on, Felicity recalled.

If nothing else, she was intrigued by the man the pahkan had spoke highly of.

Then the announcer screamed out the name 'the American' then the crowd cheered.

Her eyes automatically flew to the man making his entrance. As he made his way down the plank, she could see the man was tall and bulky, well not quite as bulky as his opponent but sometimes it wasn't all about muscles.

She was momentarily disappointed when she couldn't see his face, the challenger had on a hooded sweatshirt.

At first, she thought it was just a run of the mill green one but when the man came closer, stepped inside the ring, she realized it was green leather. The hood was longer than usual so she all she could see was a shadow of the man's stubbled jaw until finally the bell rung signaling the start of the match.

In what was probably a practiced move, the man striped himself of his hood leaving his upper body bare for all to see.

While the numerous scars with what looked like burn marks on the very well defined body would have normally been her focus, her eyes flew to the man's face, and her breath caught.

She knew this man. He was the same one who had nursed her injuries. She shouldn't have been surprised to see the man. She after all knew he was a fighter and American, the man who introduced himself as Oliver.

Duh, sometimes she could be so dense.

Wait. She shifted the thoughts which had overloaded her mind to bring back the conversation she had with Anatoli earlier. Her savior, he was Anatoli's savior too. The man was a complete enigma. He was also a Bratva Captain.

Both men were currently sizing each other up. Just circling one another.

She knew that while she had recognized Oliver, he probably didn't have time to scan the crowd. Duh, even he was she doubted he would be searching for her anyway. She knew that just like when she was deep into her online games, he was probably in a zone himself.

She however couldn't help her self. Even if he wouldn't be able to tell her voice apart from others, even if their encounter had meant nothing to him. She was firmly going to be in his corner.

"You can do this Oliver!"

Oliver registered the voice, her voice.

She was _here_. _She_ was here!

That split second of pause cost him, because a second after his face hit the floor courtesy of a solid punch on his jaw.

"Oooops," Felicity uttered, guilty that it was her fault.

"умница, it seems you know the American?" Anatoli leaned in and whispered the question.

"It's….yeah….I kinda do…."

"You are full of surprises умница. You have to tell me how you know Oliver after he wins this match."

Felicity chanced a glance at Oliver and had to scrunch her nose at what she was seeing. Yeah, it didn't look like he was winning at this point. Not even close. She could see he was bloody and sweaty.

He was distracted. Damn he was off his game, all because she was here.

This was what he wanted, the reason why he had consented to this fight. It was a gamble he played.

"Oliver! You can do this!"

There it was again, her voice in his ear. The exact push he needed to pull this fight out from under his opponent.

Currently he was on his knee, his eye still blurry but he could see enough to know his foe was heading straight for him, the killer instinct look firmly in the eye of the giant.

Oliver knew his chance was now because he might not have another one.

He waited until the giant was just two feet away from him then went for his move sweeping his opponent off his feet then using his whole body to lock the other man in a choke hold. By adding minor pressure Oliver could break the other man's neck easily.

Instead, he went for a move that blocked the oxygen supply of the other man rendering him out for the count. This wasn't a fight to the death kind of match after all.

Despite the number of kills he had tucked under his belt, a senseless and useless death, one that was uncalled for wasn't needed for tonight.

He pushed the body of his opponent away then was on his knees once again, breathing hard and exhausted but still lucid enough to search the crowd for her. Felicity.

When he finally spotted her, he was confused.

She was seated beside the man he thought he would never see again but at the same time expected to encounter tonight. He was after all made aware that the full force of the Russian mob was in town and was the reason for this series of matches. Anatoli Knyazev, the mob boss.

His focus was still on Felicity and the mob boss when the red dot first appeared.

Without even thinking, Oliver leaped out of the ring and unto the throng of people in the front row just as a single shot vibrated around.

* * *

 

_Send me a note if you love the update! Next one will be a week from now...hopefully._


	6. The American

**Author's Note: Eeeeppp! Once again, overwhelmed by the show of support for this story.**

**I should apologize for leaving this story in with a cliffhanger during the last chapter, but I won't. I think you know by now that occasionally I do that.**

**But hey, this chapter resolves that during the opening and our protagonists are gravitating toward each other seamlessly, it warms my heart.**

**On of the reviewers asked me if I get inspiration from the Season 5 teasers about Oliver Queen's plight in Russia. Well, before the end of this chapter that question will be addressed and y'all would be able to anticipate what's to come in the next chapters. I'm thinking, as this story progresses and as Arrow Season 5 finally premieres, I would be getting more inspirations from Oliver's journey within the Bratva. In the meantime, my mind is working on overtime building up the so many sub-plots in this story.**

**You can read updates of this story via my tumblr, Archive of Our Own or Fan Fiction.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

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**Tumblr - everythinglollipop**

* * *

 

C **ROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 6 – The American**

_He pushed the body of his opponent away then was on his knees once again, breathing hard and exhausted but still lucid enough to search the crowd for her. Felicity._

_When he finally spotted her, he was confused._

_She was seated beside the man he thought he would never see again but at the same time expected to encounter tonight. He was after all made aware that the full force of the Russian mob was in town and was the reason for this series of matches. Anatoli Knyazev, the mob boss._

_His focus was still on Felicity and the mob boss when the red dot first appeared._

_Without even thinking, Oliver leaped out of the ring and unto the throng of people in the front row just as a single shot vibrated around._

_Some one screamed._

_Felicity belatedly realized she had screamed. Why should she not have, blood, there was blood on her face._

_She tried to wipe off the liquid instinctively and was grossed out to feel solid chunks of something gooey intermixed with the liquid._

_She kept her eyes closed if only to try to block out everything around her, except for a warmth on her side, a warmth that was calming her despite the chaos of shouts around._

_Oliver had to chase his breath as soon as he landed on the floor, for a moment he was seeing starts. Flying from the ring wasn't really his best idea in a series of several bad choices lately._

_He knew well enough that a shot was going to be fired when he had seen the red dot and that someone had been hit because he felt spurts land on his skin._

_He felt something move on his side then a whimper._

_Felicity._

_She was the reason he felt the need to fly._

_Well, she and Anatoli, but mostly Felicity really._

"Felicity умница, это кто-то ударил? Что случилось!" Analoli's voice rang out. Only because he was in very close proximity did both Oliver and Felicity hear him, even if Felicity didn't really understand what the pakhan had just said.

Not for the first did Felicity remind herself that she needed to learn the language.

Within seconds of his shout men, several of them started to swarm around them.

A couple of the men had zeroed in on Oliver, uncaringly shoving and pushing him out of the way to get to the mob boss. Maybe it wasn't quite common knowledge that he was a bratva captain after all, he thought.

But then again, in situations like this it was always everyone's priority to make sure that the boss man was alive and kicking, so Oliver couldn't really blame the treatment he was being subjected to by the men.

Anatoli pushed away his men gently to the side, a sign that he was largely unharmed as he slowly stood up then kneeled back when he noticed that Felicity had blood on parts of her face and dress but then his eyes flew beyond her finally registering who the blood belonged to.

"Oliver, мой друг!"

"Oh my God!" Felicity blurted when she saw what Anatoli himself was seeing.

He was the one shot. He was bleeding. It was only then that Oliver registered pain, burning pain.

Damn, he had taken a bullet.

He couldn't move his arm but he still tried to assess his own damage even as Felicity, Anatoli and the others started to flock around him.

A hand stopped the progress of his hand. Her hand.

"It's a through and through," leave it to Anatoli to interrupt his moment with Felicity with a clinical assessment of his injury.

As if it was nothing, Anatoli even laughed as if it was funny. And maybe it was.

"мой друг, we should stop meeting like this. I already awarded you the highest honor as Captain, I fear the only position I can give you is mine if who ever it is who wants me killed is finally successful. But alas, I am not yet that old to retire."

Oliver winced more because it really did hurt. He had just been in a physical match and he was finally feeling the effects of that match on top of the bullet wound.

"And I would refuse even if you would insist." Oliver retorted through clench teeth.

Anatoli gestured toward the men, "let's get you patched up мой друг then we catch up. You need to tell me why this life fascinates you. I could not understand why anyone would deliberately want to get beaten up."

Oliver labored to sit up, his hand now over his injured shoulder blade.

Despite his injury, his body noticeably tingled when he felt Felicity grab his torso to assist him.

Two hours later, Oliver was stitched up and restless.

As usual, he had resisted any pain meds or any kind of meds for that matter. The pain had dulled down from the time it took to get to one of the bratva houses until he was being sewn up.

A bratva doctor had been dispatched right away and had tended to his bullet wound. Oliver had hardly felt the pain his eyes and being focused on the one person who had refused to leave his side.

Anatoli had been there when he was first being treated and had told him that they would have a talk soon, he just had to take care of a few things.

Oliver was sure the few things he would take care of included a bloody binge. No one after all attacked the pakhan so openly.

They all had an idea who the man who dared was after all, Nigel Hoff.

Personally, he had never heard of the man. Oliver deliberately kept to himself after all. But a Captain, even a junior one assaulting the mob boss that screamed retaliation and if Oliver heard it right, generations of Hoffs would not survived the night.

Nigel Hoff dared to attack the bratva family. He failed and would pay with his life and the life of several generations of Hoffs. The bratva could be ruthless if need be. And they needed to make a statement, a strong one.

He fell asleep sometime later. Under the command of the pakhan he was forced to bed and could do nothing but comply.

* * *

 

When he woke up he could see through the window that it was dark once again and more importantly, Felicity wasn't by his side anymore.

He had slept the morning and the afternoon away.

He sighed. Unbelievably disappointed that she left his side at all.

He made as if to get out of bed but had to pause for a few seconds when his muscles had initially refused to cooperate. It was as he was half way out of the bed that the door to his room opened and he heard a loud huff that made him turn toward it.

"Unbelievable!"

Her tone of voice gave him the impulse to seat right back down but he had always been a more than stubborn man. Instead he strived to complete the task of fully standing up.

"Really, you're going to give me attitude? In case it slipped your mind, you've just been shot. That and add the to that the fact that you've been thoroughly beaten…."

"I won the fight!" He argued, interrupting her. He knew that although he won, he probably was the one suffering more than the man he had defeated with one lucky move but he would never openly admit that, specifically to her.

For a reason he was very much aware of, he wanted her to never see him as anything else but tough and indestructible, someone who would always be able to protect and defend her. That's why he exerted every effort not to show her any weakness.

But when she paraded into the room and stood before him with her arms crossed giving him a tired look he finally relented and slowly sat back down.

It was only then that he noticed that she was not alone as she entered his temporary room.

She was followed by someone who looked like a cook and one other he could easily ascertain as security personnel given the way he was dressed carrying a foldable mini round table where a bowl of steaming soup with bread on the side and what looked like a couple of steaks was carefully arranged on top of the table.

The cook and the guard left quietly after the meal was laid out while Felicity looked around and finally pulled an armchair from the corner forward.

"One of them is for me," Felicity felt the need to say as she caught Oliver eyeing the steaks.

"I didn't think both were mine to begin with. I just didn't realize I was hungry until I saw all these," he said gesturing toward the array of food.

"Eat then, but leave enough space for dessert. Anatoli wanted me to pass along the message that he would join you, us really for dessert in an hour at the balcony." She pointed a spot beyond the window that he just now realized was a sliding door that must lead to the place she mentioned.

This was nice, he thought.

Dinner with Felicity was giving him date like feels.

He was dressed in borrowed clothes, sweat pants and a t-shirt and she was in jeans and a tank top that showed just enough cleavage. It was sad that she threw a jacket over her top he liked it better when she was in her dress, remembering the last time they were in this situation except she was the one injured and in bed and he was the 'nurse'.

And okay, maybe the setting wasn't quite date-like, unless they were firmly in a relationship and comfortably in the first part of the program of the night which was dinner before they moved to more enjoyable bedroom activities, which they were not.

Oliver schooled his thoughts. He had a funny feeling she could read his thoughts and willed himself not to blush at the same time tame his alive and twitching cock.

He needed to focus on something else that made this feel less like a date so he switched topics to…..

"Where are we?"

Felicity shrugged before she answered, "a bratva safe house. We're still in Kazan just in case you are wondering. Anatoli thought it prudent to bunk down for the night, a couple of nights actually since he's really, really focused on cleansing, his word not mine."

He knew what 'cleansing' meant. It was Anatoli's clinical definition for wiping out a whole bloodline. This time, it was the Hoff bloodline.

Oliver pushed his plate away. It was empty. So was the bowl of soup. He really was hungry.

Felicity pushed her almost empty plate away too.

"Now that dinner is done and there's food in you. You should take a quick shower, no lingering. I've been informed by the doctor who treated you that this is not your first rodeo in getting shot and don't try to deny it, I've seen your naked body myself. And by naked I meant during the fight, not…" Pointing to his torso lamely while a blush started to creep up from her neck.

She pushed her chair back and stood up abruptly, he suspected more because she realized belatedly that she might have insinuated that she was been deliberately looking at his naked chest. Not now, because he was wearing a t-shirt, but during his fight.

"You've got fifteen minutes to shower and get dressed. Your change of clothes is right there," she pointed to his duffel bag which should still be in the locker he had stored it in the underground fight venue but it was right there, by the door. He shouldn't really be surprised. This was the bratva after all. They knew things like that and worked in not so mysterious ways.

She continued to prattled as she walked toward the door, "just exit thru the sliding door and take a left when you're done. Both Anatoli and I will be there with dessert."

With that, she walked out and closed his door with a thud.

* * *

 

It took him five minutes more than the allotted fifteen minutes she gave him but he finally made it.

His shoulder didn't really hurt anymore although his muscles and certain parts of his anatomy were still bruised from the fight. His opponent wouldn't really be nicknamed 'the giant' for nothing.

He fumbled with his steps when he finally spotted them, the mob boss and her huddled together like they were…..not a couple, Oliver's mind protested. He refused to go there. Instead he went with, father and daughter.

They really did look like father and daughter the way Anatoli was laughing heartily at something Felicity had said. He had never seen the man so relaxed before. Granted their time together at Lian Yu were much different circumstances so much so that there was just no joy and nothing to even smile about.

The mob boss was still trying to contain his laughter when he finally spotted Oliver who just stopped walking and was looking at them, gesturing with his arm for him to move toward them.

Despite the smile the mob boss displayed, Oliver noted that the boss was also giving him firm appraisal. He figured the Anatoli was taking personal inventory of the seriousness of his injuries and probably arrived at the conclusion that he was recuperated sufficiently.

"Oliver, мой друг!"

Oliver treaded slowly. Still mindful of his injuries then sat down slowly beside Felicity, opposite Anatoli relishing Felicity hovering a little to make sure he was comfortable.

"I'm okay," he simply stated but couldn't resist placing his palm above hers, which was on his thigh.

He already anticipated her blush when she realized that her hand was on his thigh. He was 100% sure didn't know she had left it there after helping him get comfortable sitting down. When her flush came, recognizing her unconscious action, she quickly tried to withdraw her hand making him sigh inward.

The man seated across them watched what was unfolding in front of him with a hidden smile. This was an unexpected development, a pleasant one but still unexpected.

Oliver had always been hard to read. His emotions were always hidden, if he had any at all. Anatoli knew his savior, twice now, had led a very harsh life in the last few years maybe that was the reason for his death wish. Because earning a living as a fighter was exactly that, a death wish.

As the mob boss, Anatoli had superior skills including superior skills in observation.

Oh, he would not make a comment on what he had seen. It was none of his business after all. No, that wasn't exactly true. Felicity was under his employ, although reluctantly, therefore that made it his business. During the couple of days he had keenly studied Felicity. And he was of the same opinion as Yuri that she had adjusted well, to the point of not only accepting her current situation but also thriving in it positively.

He had never been a nurturer, at least not the kind that involved a more personal relationship that bordered on familial, but Felicity was quite unique in her ability to draw people into her warmth. Particularly hardened ones like him and seemingly the man before him who had a death wish.

So yeah, he wasn't going to do anything about it in the meantime. But he would intensely monitor were this might be going.

The Hoff problem had already been taken cared of. It was cast in stone the moment the attempted assassination had failed. If there was any take away from that incident, it was that his men needed to have better skills, and although physical skills was a given, other skills also needed to be honed.

In his mind, he had already planned out what Oliver Queen, bratva captain with no territory would be undertaking. An offer he was now sure his captain would not refuse after witnessing how the man had gravitated toward the bratva's newly appointed senior cyber specialist operator.

The way Anatoli looked at it, he would be hitting two birds with one stone. Taking Oliver away from the path of destruction he was currently leading and providing his cyber specialist with more roots in his organization by bringing into the fold someone she obviously felt a kinship with, or maybe something more with.

He was almost 100% sure his scheme to bring Oliver into the bratva fold to train his troops would be welcomed by the man. After this latest incident he knew his troops needed a new training perspective.

He eyed the two people across the table once again satisfied that everything was falling into place seamlessly.

* * *

 

_Aww...Anatoli is so sweet..._

_Translation:_

_"Felicity умница, это кто-то ударил? Что случилось!" – Felicity (my smart girl), who was shot? What's happening!_

_"Oliver, мой друг!" - Oliver, my friend!_


	7. Captain Oliver

**Author's Note: I missed I think three weeks to update and I apologize. Things are beginning to get hectic now that we are approaching the end of the year. For those not in the know, I do work fulltime and sometimes work gets in the way of my writing.**

**Anyway, the new chapter is here and it's getting even more exciting. I left this story with Anatoli in a pensive mood and a plan up his sleeve. That plan is going to unfold quickly right smack at the start of this chapter so we can get to the juicer part involving a lot of Oliver and Felicity interaction.**

**If you like this update, drop me a line. With things catching up with me at work, each positive comment and message gives me fuel to turn to writing to relieve my work stress.**

**You can read updates of this story via my tumblr, Archive of Our Own or Fan Fiction.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

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* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 7 – Captain Oliver**

It was just under midnight and Oliver had found himself strolling the pocket garden of the bratva safe house with Anatoli. One after all could not refuse an invitation from the pakhan himself.

The mob boss had spent the first few minutes of their walk reminiscing about the past with the pakhan dominating much of the conversation. Oliver had gathered that the pakhan was sincerely interested in knowing about his whereabouts and his adventures during those lost years and even inserted a comment or two, before he segued into the reason for this after midnight talk.

Anatoli had all but commanded Oliver who was a bratva captain after all, to change careers and start taking his role as a captain to heart by assuming a more active role in the organization. As Anatoli explained, it was now more than obvious that mob soldiers were not as highly skilled as they should be, not only in combat but also in other proficiencies that included intel gathering and specialized abilities. It was to be Oliver's task to develop an elite team of mob boeviks with very specialized skills.

For the elite squad, he will also be working with the newly appointed bratva technology expert in Felicity Smoak to also supplement the physical training with computer skills training, creating a well-rounded super soldier first class that could rival first world government elite forces and spy networks.

When the pakhan had mentioned Felicity, Oliver had noticed the glint in the mob boss eye, which made him frown. He noted little things like that, particularly because it involved the woman who he couldn't quite get out of his mind no matter how he tried.

Oliver rationalized in his mind that since he was after all a member of the bratva, even if he was never activated, he had no recourse but to follow the command of his pakhan, or at least that was what he told himself. That the opportunity of working closely with the tech genius was never a deciding factor for him.

Truth was, he was more than ready to turn his back on his present life that was the underground fight club. Aligning himself with the mob, which he was technically already a part of anyway was an alliance that was to happen at some point anyway. Now seemed as good time as any. In fact, now seemed the best time for it.

As Anatoli had instructed, Oliver had gone ahead back to Moscow together with a small army of soldiers he had tasked to build a training center with his detailed specifications. The building existed but had remained empty for the past couple of years. It was attached to the main building the housed the pakhan's private residence as well as his offices.

Oliver, along with a few others considered to be in the inner circle of Anatoli, Felicity Smoak included, were to be residents of the same house that Anatoli resided in.

It was amazing what the bratva could accomplish in only three days and Oliver marveled at this.

The building was now halfway toward being state-of-the-art in as far as its purpose was served. Equipment was being brought in and other specialized structures for non-traditional training were being completed ahead of schedule.

Oliver was more than confident that in two days time, which was the day Anatoli, Felicity and the others would arrive, everything would be more than ready that Oliver now focused most of his attention on the files that Anatoli had entrusted him with. Profiles of mob soldiers, some folders six inches thick which he had to read through.

Oliver was to select members of the elite task force from them.

Having decided to focus on the task at hand, Oliver now had a neat pile of three before him on top of what was now his official office in the Moscow residence.

To his left was the tallest pile, a pile of rejected folders. Oliver wasn't really a nitpicker but he was very particular about profiles of each candidate. The stack of folders represented those who he felt were either too green, with family that could be used against them or just plainly because nothing in their profiles stuck out to him.

In front of him was a stack of ten folders. This pile was his undecided pile. Oliver had wanted to meet each individual before he would make any final judgment.

Finally, on his right was a paltry pile of just two folders, those who had jumped out at him as not only potential candidates, but very impressive and promising ones. He had already informed Anatoli of his interest in the two and the pakhan had assured him that both candidates would be arriving in a few hours. Apparently, when the pakhan commanded you to go some place, you went, without question.

Anatoli had also given Oliver access to soft files, directed Felicity to give him a password that would allow him unrestricted access. A level 4 access which, according to Felicity only two people had at the moment, and he was now one of them. All other Captain's had level 3 access. Some had level 2 and most had level 1.

The highest access, level 5, which allowed for full, unrestricted access across the mob operations only two people had those access codes. Anatoli was the one person of course, and Felicity Smoak was the other. Largely because it was her system anyway and she could probably hack and override the protocols but Oliver knew giving Felicity the green light for unrestricted access meant that in the short time the mob boss had known the tech genius, he had learned to fully trust her and with the trust, the highly sensitive information that went with it.

Oliver didn't really know if Felicity fully grasped how high she had risen in the bratva organization pole and how much of an insider she had become in such a short span.

It still astounded him that Felicity could still maintain the air of innocence and naivety despite her surroundings. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. She was almost like that one, single source of light and untainted ray of positive energy. He could clearly see that Anatoli had been quickly drawn and taken to her the same way. She was rare in the kind of life they led, a unicorn really.

And he missed her. Really missed her.

He laughed, more like choked laughed because this was happening amidst all upheaval in his life. He knew that it wouldn't take much more for him to fall for her. Not just someone, not just anyone, only her.

He was sure that she had no idea whatsoever what she was doing to him. She really didn't need to do anything but be her usual self around him. He had known she was different the first time they had met. That was the reason why he was so reluctant to leave, so eager to help her.

He missed her. Missed her innocent babble. Missed her innuendos. Missed her quirks. He really did miss all of her.

On the day Anatoli and his entourage had arrived back at the Moscow residence it was late in the night and Oliver had been out with his two candidates.

He had been given a secret mission by Anatoli, Felicity had discovered some discrepancies with some reports from Kiev. Oliver took the opportunity for this to be part of the tactical training for his still ragtag team to gather covert intel about supposed misdeclared shipments.

* * *

 

Felicity followed the path that Anatoli had told her to follow. She took her time, her face in awe as she took in the residence.

This was the first time she had stepped foot inside this massive fortress. And it was massive.

It was after all the equivalent of the White House in the US, or something like that given whom the residence housed.

Now, this was to be her home too.

When the pakhan had personally shown her the quarters, her quarters, her eyes had become big as saucers.

Not only was she just a corridor down from Anatoli's personal quarters, she had her own private corridor that had only one other door on the other side. For a moment she wondered who resided on the other room, who her corridor-mate was but only for a moment since she took in her room and got sidetracked.

It was a suite, a large one that included a sitting room, a kitchen nook, a small office since her large one was right beside Anatoli's on the main floor, a walk-in closet and a massive en-suite. And it was tastefully design with touches of purple.

How did Anatoli even find out she would have a solid weakness for purple. Of course, the bratva knew everything!

She hardly noticed the more than pleased smile that was plastered on the face of the mob boss at her reaction and appreciation of her suite of rooms.

As soon as Anatoli had bid her goodnight and had shut the door of her private quarters, Felicity had twirled around her room. She couldn't help it.

How had this become her life!

Were it not for her employ, she was undoubtedly living a royal life.

In truth, at least since Anatoli had personally plucked her from the line, not really a line but more like amongst the crowd of foot soldiers. Her life had changed dramatically.

She after all had been kidnapped, cajoled, slightly tortured and threatened to work for the Russian mob in the beginning. How her life and when she had evolved from reluctantly working for the mob to becoming one of its treasures, a more than willing warm body for the mob even she couldn't pinpoint a specific time.

Oh she wasn't dense, despite her being a blond. She knew she had a revered status in the mob.

She also knew that while others had raised a brow, most had towed the line and followed the pakhan's lead, giving her the courtesy and respect that came with her critical position, as the one person who would be responsible for ensuring the bratva survive the technological revolution.

Gone were the days where brute force was the way for the mob to expand or at least remain dominant in their territories. No, nowadays, e-files and the internet was the way to go.

With a single click, the bratva had to power to continue to be the dominant underground force it was. And Anatoli intended for the Russian mob to be a step ahead of the other underground operators with similar organizations like the Chinese, the Italians, and the same like.

So yeah, Felicity's status as a firm top tier inner circle member of Anatoli's entourage was very much spelled out with the way the pakhan was treating her.

Right now, the pakhan had asked her to bring Oliver to him so the three of them could have breakfast and Oliver could update them on what he had been doing during the week. There was also the small matter of the Kiev issue, which was known only to Anatoli, her and Oliver.

Yeah, definitely inner circle talk.

Finally! Felicity breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted the walkway that led to the annex building, which housed the training center. Oliver's newly refurbished building.

She quietly made her way toward the entrance, the doors themselves were intimidating as she pushed one open.

The first thing she heard was a clanking sound. Steel over steel.

The warehouse like interior was dimly lit, maybe because it was largely empty except for that single repeating clanking sound.

Felicity's view was blocked by wooden structures and what looked like cargo nets. She couldn't really make sense of what they were for.

None of the equipment she would usually associate with a gym stood out.

Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to just follow the clanking sound. Whatever it was, she was sure something human was making that sound.

As she rounded a bend, her eyes almost popped out.

She stopped, her hand unconsciously flying to her throat. She forgot to breathe.

She blinked twice, or was it thrice. Her eyes honed in on the body, naked body. Naked torso, not really totally naked given that the body was wearing cargo pants that hanged low, indecently low on the hips. Hips that were attached to musclely legs very much defined by the cut of the pants.

Her eyes lingered back on the naked torso as she once again swallowed what could have been her own drool before it leisurely traveled upward until she finally registered a face. Oliver's.

Blue eyes locked on blue eyes.


	8. Troop Training

A **uthor's Note: The new Arrow season is here and it's going to be the best one yet. At least I'm hoping it will be if the focus is on OTA and what about the bratva, we've all been waiting four long years for the flashbacks to be focused on the Russian mob and now it's finally here.**

**Again, the response to this story and the previous chapter has been overwhelming as always. I hope this continues in the succeeding chapters starting with this one as we get deeper into the bratva storyline.**

**You can read updates of this story via my tumblr, Archive of Our Own or Fan Fiction.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

**Fanfiction – lollipopdiairies**

**Ao3 – lollipopdiaries**

**Tumblr - everythinglollipop**

* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 8 – Troop Training**

Oliver had lined up his 'troop', prancing back and forth as he gave each one a speculative gaze.

His original two candidates were in the same line and occupied the right most part. The two have proven to be ready and able as was his original assessment when he read each ones profile. The two together with him had the Kiev mission tucked under their belt. It was declared a success, at least that was according to Felicity, she after all benefited the most from the intel gathered. Anatoli had reserved is opinion on the success of the mission in true mob boss fashion and kept his cards close to his chest.

Vasili Krug and Oleg Krum, Krug and Krum as they were more known were now bonafide members of Oliver's elite force. They were not only quick studies, but they had proven to be skilled in the art of war that Oliver had prescribed to.

Six others in the line were still to pass final judgment however. Anatoli and he had gone back and forth on viability of the current candidates and pending their physical capabilities, were to continue on as probationary candidates for the elite squad until further notice.

Krug and Krum however graduated to enhancing other skills that was a prerequisite for the elite force. They, together with him had spent a day of each week with Felicity being coached and trained on basic tech skills and speak which obviously would come in handy with the kind of mission the task force would be undertaking in the future.

He himself had been an attentive student lapping up as much knowledge as he could. His reasons were however more personal than professional. In his mind, his being some kind of expert in tech would mean Felicity would do less fieldwork therefore ensuring her safety.

He knew he or any of the members of his elite team would never be in her level as far as techie knowledge was concerned but still it calm his heart knowing that unless it was anything really major, she would remain inside the fortress, safe.

Beyond the once-a-week tutorial with Felicity however, he had spent very little time with her, which he knew would prove to be a problem for him. Primarily because he had long acknowledged to himself that even if they, or more to the point, he decided they couldn't go beyond their current status quo. He still needed his frequent dose of being in her orbit if only to keep him sane.

Because of the kind of life he had led, just a glimpse of her was enough to make his week. Keep him even enough to do what is he did for the bratva.

He couldn't offer her anything at all.

All he did was trade one death wish for another by stepping up within the bratva.

She deserved more than what he could offer. This wasn't the life she deserved.

He frequently had to remind himself of his decision, remind himself of his resolve to take a step back and just focus on his task as bratva captain.

It was logical after all. The only thing that was sure in this world for him was death. It would come sooner for him that later with the kind of life he led. He would never be able to live with himself if because of him she would be further pushed toward an early death. Not because of him.

In fact, he made it his mission one way or another to get Anatoli to release her from the bratva and all her obligations at some point. While her light still shined bright amidst the darkness that surrounded them.

"They aren't ready, are they? The team I mean?"

Anatoli gave Felicity a narrowed look, a piercing one. The same one she had seen on his face when he was shifting thoughts in his mind during tactical operations. One she was never subject to prior to tonight at least.

"Do you doubt Oliver's capabilities suddenly?"

The pakhan's question stopped her. Did she? Even knowing the elite team Oliver put together was nowhere physically ready, nor was there complete trust, did she really doubt be would come through in the end. After the half a dozen missions his elite team had successfully come back from, now she doubted him?

"This is different. It's not just Kiev. This is bigger than just Kiev."

Anatoli wagged a finger at her as if lecturing her, "this is the reason the elite team exists. To handle situations like this, threats to our very existence. He is the best we have and his team by extension."

"I should have been there with them," she answered not at all intimidated by the pakhan while they both followed the screen and the red dots that told them the location of each member of the elite team.

"So eager to fight for the bratva are we? Your time will come. It's just not today. Oliver and I both agree that you are too valuable to be anywhere but here for now."

Felicity scoffed, because that was typical male macho reasoning. She was the best in her field. Even the pakhan knew that. Unnecessary lives might be lost tonight because the men in her life refused to let her join the mission. A mission that was right up her skill set.

It was necessary to plant bugs and upload spyware directly into the computers of the Kiev bratva which Oliver's team discovered to be offline, at least to the bratva system. Someone within the Kiev operations was operating outside of the bratva and sending intel and maybe more to someone else. The pakhan's suspicion was the Chinese Triad therefore he huffed and puffed, because they dared to encroach into his Russian territory.

The plan was for her to back trace the systems, and discover who was the traitor in Kiev and more importantly whom the traitor or traitors were in touch with.

The pakhan himself was subtly taking measures against the Kiev Captain, in the meantime so as not to alert anyone. Guilty or not, the consequence for the Captain was death. He had allowed this to happen on his watch, it was unforgivable.

Unknown to Felicity, Anatoli and Oliver had argued on the role Felicity would be playing moving forward. While the pakhan had agreed with him that Felicity's place was not on the field, because Kiev was a key territory, Anatoli had planned to deploy his trusted number three, because that was who Felicity was in the bratva hierarchy to personally direct the troops, led by his trusted number two man Oliver himself.

Anatoli had kept the information of the ranks and hierarchy to himself as of the moment since now wasn't the time to shake the status quo with reorganization. The fact that he had made it clear that both Felicity and Oliver were part of his very inner circle should be enough information for the other Captains.

It was very clear to Anatoli however that the Kiev situation needed his tech genius to be on hand, at the heart of the situation for this to be resolved.

While he had conceded Felicity did not need to be with the elite team today, he had made it clear to Oliver that she would be with the team when the time came.

He knew his number two would give his life if necessary to protect precious Felicity. She however needed to be able to defend herself, be trained in the art of combat, defense and offense. She was bratva after all.

Tomorrow, as soon as his elite team was back he would have a serious sitdown with Oliver on Felicity's training.

* * *

 

Oliver was on his way to the training building. He needed to work out a lot of his frustration by hitting something. It was a better plan than his earlier intention, giving Anatoli a solid one on the kisser.

Damn Anatoli!

What the fuck is he thinking!

He should be protecting her, not sending her out on missions!

Wasn't it enough that he was out there doing his bidding?

Damn Anatoli! He would get Felicity killed!

She deserved more from Anatoli, after everything.

A couple of men swiftly got out of his way as soon as they saw his expression. After more than a few weeks, the bratva captain was gaining a reputation as someone who could be even scarier than the pakhan himself even before he was provoked.

His default stance and his reputation as an underground fighter coupled with his new status as leader of the elite force and unofficial number two of the mob boss had everyone trying to get at his good side, failing that getting out the way.

Failing to put a pause on his temper, he grabbed the knife tucked unto the belt of one of the men who jumped out of his way and threw it across the hallway, landing it firmly attached to what surely was a priceless painting, one from the personal collection of the mob boss.

Damaging the painting did nothing to remedy his mood.

He was sure this had been on Anatoli's mind all along and the pakhan only humored him the last time when he agreed to not let Felicity join the elite teams last mission.

How dare Anatoli threaten him with letting someone else train Felicity if he refused to!

While Oliver rationally knew that Felicity needed to be skilled beyond her tech speak, in his mind once she was trained nothing would stop her from putting herself in harms way. He wouldn't be dealing with Anatoli anymore, it would be Felicity he would be verbally sparring with when it came to field work.

He knew when that time came, he would be hard pressed to say no to her. He could never say no to her. But he would, because saying no to her and incurring her anger would be better any day than her wounded more so dead any day, any day.

He finally reached the doors of the training building and frown when he immediately noticed some lights on when he pushed the door to open.

While the building wasn't technically off limits, he was usually aware if anyone was in the building or not. He knew for a fact that he didn't schedule training nor was any member of his team inside the building. He had sent them to their quarters to rest after the mission.

He was the only one up because Anatoli had seen fit to inform him of his plan with regard to Felicity as soon as they arrived and that had sent him directly to the training center to let off some steam right after.

As Oliver stepped further into the room he paused at the scene before him.

She didn't notice him.

That in itself told him she still had much to learn. Something as basic as being aware of ones surroundings was one of the first things he taught himself when he was in Lian Yu. It had served him well in the last few years.

"You'll hurt yourself doing that."

Because Felicity's arm was already half on its way to hit the punching bag as he spoke starling her, he watch as she totally missed the dummy and her momentum took her down landing her on her ass springing him into action as he flew to her side.

"Owww."

He grabbed her arms to turn her partially toward him checking to make sure her hard landing was the only injury she had until he was satisfied that it was but only until he saw her hands.

While they were wrapped, they were nowhere near wrapped properly and he could see her knuckles were red and swollen.

Damn this woman! Didn't she know what it did to him to see any part of her hurt even if she was the cause of her own injury!

"What the hell were you thinking!" His words were harsher than he intended because he was still angry at what he was seeing.

"I was thinking I needed to be able to defend my self thank you." She told him defensively pulling her hands away from his and started to brace herself to stand up.

Momentarily speechless at her answer it took him half a second more before he reached out his hands again to her waist this time to help her up from the floor but couldn't prevent the words leaving his lips.

"You wouldn't need to defend yourself if you just stayed right here. Safe."

Once again she pulled away from his grasp and placed her hands on her waist as she face him, eyes fiery.

"You are not the boss of me! It's my life. My choice. Besides, Anatoli and I already talked. It was his choice that you train me, just in case. It's not as if I'd be willing to be out there everytime. I've got some sense after all. I know what I can and what I can't do. If you can't get over yourself, I'm sure there are others more than willing to train me."

She marched away from him toward what he believed was the direction of the salmon ladder.

Unbelievable! Oliver muttered to himself.

Why were they even fighting? He asked himself.

Stubborn woman! He muttered one more time before he followed her.

"Please don't do that."

Oliver uttered gently this time as he approached her, biting his lip to prevent him from smirking as he eyed what she was attempting to do.

Because of her height she couldn't quite reach the bar that currently rested on the lowest level. That did not however curb her enthusiasm as she repeatedly jumped up reaching with both hand outstretched until she just huffed and fixed him with a frustrated glare.

"Why are you still here!"

He raised a brow, this was after all his territory and she was the one encroaching he wasn't however going to state the obvious. No, he would humor her. Deciding finally that he would be training her. Better he than someone else.

Not only would he be the best one for the job, but more than that it wouldn't sit well with him if someone else trained her.

Besides, it would be an experience. He just hoped he wouldn't live to regret it. It wasn't like she would turn out to be a difficult student.

Well, maybe she would be a little difficult. She wouldn't be Felicity after all if she wouldn't be challenging him.

Nope, he was more worried about what proximity to her would do for his piece of mind. Not after he decided that the life he led would just dim her light.

With his resolve made, at least that part were he would train her he made to approach her.

Spying his approach, she crossed her arms over her chest and stood straighter in challenge.

Yeah it was going to be interesting, Oliver thought. Damn Anatoli.

* * *

 

The man Oliver cursed was for his part seated in his office, a tumbler of vodka in his hand as he shifted through the papers in front of him shaking his head.

The timing of setting up the task force couldn't have been more precise. There was no doubt in his mind that the bratva was going to be undergoing a major challenge soon. It seemed that Chinese triad had been gearing up to expand its foothold in new territories including one that the pakhan had his eye on, the US.

Sure, they had business partners and trusted allies in the US but they didn't have a solid presence by one of their own, one with a Captain status primarily because everyone else had pure Russian blood running through their veins and had no feasible familiarity within the US.

Anatoli lifted his tumbler and finished off the last of its contents, pushing the papers aside knowing that wasn't exactly true.

He had a full-blooded American who was a bratva captain. One who was believed to be dead, but that was a small matter.

Anatoli knew that fight for dominance wasn't going to be fought in either Russia or china, rather the fight for territory would be fought where it should be. He had been preparing for this having Oliver put together an elite team that was not only skilled to lead the fight for dominance in the new territory but also to ensure that the elite team was bonded enough so they not only had each others back but would not question the lead of one who was not of the same blood as theirs.

It wasn't going to happen today or tomorrow but soon.

He knew Oliver was astute enough to anticipate this move by him.

The only question in his mind was whether it would be wise to send Felicity with Oliver back to the US at this point or give him a few months to establish his re-entry into his life, Oliver was a Queen after all. Belonged to one of the more affluent families, the news of him being alive would be making headlines. He had no doubt.


	9. View to a Kill

**Author's Note: Yep, you are not deceived. You are getting two chapter updates in the span of just a couple of days, this being the second one posted.**

**Why you asked? Well, I had a delay a chapter ago not being able to post for almost three weeks, but I'm back in the groove and my writing chops are on point (at least I think they are).**

**Any, this chapter is already written and edited and, I'm working on a new one so why wait, I have something to post for the next weekend anyway.**

**I'm leaving this chapter at a point where it would somehow link with the beginning of Arrow Season 1 because the opportunity was just too good to pass but we aren't quite there yet, we are just near enough.**

**The usual disclaimers apply. I do not own Arrow or the characters, if I did they 5.01 would have ended with Oliver and Felicity in bed….**

**You can read updates of this story via my tumblr, Archive of Our Own or Fan Fiction. And please, send me comments. They really push me to invest in this story.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to message me thru any of the following:**

**Twitter – lollipopsays**

**Fanfiction – lollipopdiairies**

**Ao3 – lollipopdiaries**

**Tumblr - everythinglollipop**

* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 9 – View to a Kill**

"You're not ready!"

"I'm not going to engaged. I'm just going to be observing, from a safe distance. A very safe distance."

Oliver eyed her with skepticism. He knew her, or at least he knew her better than he did three weeks ago when he started training her reluctantly.

Her instincts were good, better than good if she was a soldier in training because she was like a sponge when it came to picking up and following instructions for both self-defense and offense but she wasn't.

Oliver could recall a particular instance a couple of weeks ago when he had all his candidates gathered around the mats where he demonstrating a particular defensive move that involved taking down an opponent with only ones body.

With Krug and Krum taking on the offensive, he had showed them how numbers, size and being weaponless didn't really necessarily translate to losing. He had made a point to reinforce the fact to the men and Felicity that he was the weapon, just like they were weapons, that guns, knives or any other tool were but aids. If all else fails, the body was all that mattered.

So above all else, he focused on what the body was capable of doing without a weapon. All they needed was to know how to use that one thing they all had to their advantage.

He had asked each one of the men seated to take their turn taking the defensive against Krug, Krum or him until they were all done. He had catalogued what each man had improved at the present time and to assess what work they still needed because they definitely needed a lot of work.

Just when every single one of the men where finished with their turn and Oliver was about to move to the next lesson he felt movement in the corner of his eye. Felicity.

She, whom he had tried and failed to ignore for the last two hours of the session to no avail, she was finally making her move.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek because this once again wasn't his idea and was nothing if not stubborn especially in matters he felt so strong about.

In true Felicity fashion, she had just arrived in workout clothes and sat on the mat as if she belonged to the class. And not just any type of workout clothes mind you, nope, she needed it to be in color. Fuchsia and purple bright in contrast to what everyone else was wearing, black. Which was what Oliver had instructed all trainees to wear.

Oliver saw both Krug and Krum give her a smile before they both turned to him with blank expressions. Traitors, he uttered in his mind. Even his best operatives had been wrapped around her finger.

He rubbed his face twice before he answered, making his decision in the process as he instructed Krug and Krum to move the other trainees along into the next phase of the training while he stayed alone with Felicity at the mats.

If he were to be touching any part of her he sure as hell wouldn't want any other witnesses. He had the discipline down, but every single training and control he had flew out the window whenever he had to touch her. He could stand to be near her, breathe the same air as her but he drew the line on control when they were skin to skin, never mind if there were fully clothed and barely his finger touched any part of her skin.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek again at what she was doing because she was crouching low with her knees bent and her arms up in front of her, her version of a beginning fighting stance. She was going to be the death of him someday.

As he neared her, his stance deliberately intimidating he noted one thing, he didn't succeed in intimidating her. Instead, she had a serious expression on her face as if anticipating his next move.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he sidestepped and reached for her. Any novice would have frozen up at this point and would be easy prey but she surprised him.

She had been tracking his feet as he moved and somehow correctly read his intend and countered with her own sidestep.

All he caught in his hands was air. She had succeeded accomplishing something that the others had all failed to do, one upping him with her move.

She had been withholding from him.

She either had been holding out on him since the beginning or someone had been training her behind his back.

To confirm this, he went for a move that he knew the one he suspected giving her secret lessons would have taught her so he knew her defensive moves would be automatic.

He threw a wrist aiming at her cheek that she was easy to block, then he went and followed that up with aiming for her other cheek which she also blocked. He went for a series of chops that although slow, she was able to counter. Had his intent been to kill she would have been dead, but his intent had been to fish, so he hadn't been as forceful.

She had more than a few lessons. That was clear. In fact, she would be somewhere in the top of his class if he were to rank her.

Damn Anatoli, he had been training Felicity behind his back. Maybe whenever, he had sent Oliver's elite team on a mission.

And he knew the mob boss enough to know that the man had his own reason for doing this. If nothing else, this more than confirmed in Oliver's mind what he dreaded. He was not only sending Oliver and his elite team in the middle of a war but he would eventually add Felicity into the mix.

Damn Anatoli!

"That's enough!" He called out to her.

He noticed her relied although she had tried to hide it, heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She needed endurance training, he thought to himself. The enemy wasn't going to pause if she was tired or out of breathe.

"How did I do?" She asked him confidence seeping through.

"Still far from good enough to be out on the field."

She was tempted to think that he was just being petty, which he was capable of being but deep inside she knew he spoke the truth. "Then train me! Really train me. Train me on everything I need to know. While you aren't exactly a genius I think you figured out the same thing I figured out. Anatoli isn't going to keep me locked up, and safe inside this fortress forever. The fact that he has volunteered to show me some moves means, it would be sooner than later."

"It should be never! Anatoli should know better!"

"Believe me when I say, I got to know the man and I believe he does know better. He knows that the survival of the bratva is at stake. And no one, not you, not him, not even me should be seated on the sidelines, this war demands all hands on deck."

He let out an angry breath, "did he tell you that?"

Felicity rolled her eyes, "I have this you know," pointing to her brain, "I can figure things on my own. Besides, I've been the one deciphering the data streaming from your Kiev midnight operation. The war isn't coming, it's here Oliver, and we can do nothing to stop it."

* * *

 

The next time Oliver sees Felicity she is in the middle of her Russian language lessons courtesy of the pakhan himself.

They were in the library, the mob boss and his student while a couple of mob soliders stood guard outside.

Rather than interrupt them, he just walked pass the room and made his way to his office, Krug and Krum followed him as usual.

* * *

 

The next morning Oliver frowned at what he was seeing as he entered the smaller kitchen of the mansion. Krug and Krum each had a bowl in front of them, twins smiles on their faces as they gazed up at Felicity no doubt under her spell, just like he was.

As soon as she spotted him, she turned around and busied herself with whatever. Oliver for his part took a seat beside his men confused when he noticed what they were eating.

A bowl of fruit loops. Really! Since when did the bratva have fruit loops or any kind of cereal for that matter in the pantry. He suspected, like many other changes he had noticed in the mob mansion this was Felicity's doing. As usual, the house cook and the housekeeper didn't even bother to protest but rather had probably placed the order for several boxes as soon as the words had left her lips.

Not so very slowly, the atmosphere in the mansion had evolved from dark and gloomy to one that had spots of light and sunshine as splashes of color, maybe a few pastel colored throw pillows, brighter curtains, fresh flowers brightened up the rooms. These were just some of the changes he noticed. He had no doubt that it was her doing, Felicity.

He didn't notice a bowl pushed toward him until it was right in front of his face so lost as he was in his thoughts.

"Stop brooding and eat. I'm sure it's been awhile for you as it had been for me. I finally convinced Anatoli to have some American staples around. While the food isn't really bad, I still crave for a few favorites from back home."

Oliver pushed his bowl toward Felicity noticing that she didn't have one in front of her, as she took her seat in front of him.

She pushed back the bowl toward him. "nah ah, this one's yours. I had my bowl earlier. I'm just waiting on those world-class waffles that chef Krys is making for me. His strawberry ones are the best."

Oliver thought back to his younger days at the Queen Mansion when Raisa, their family housekeeper taught him how to make strawberry waffles. It had been Raisa's mission to teach him some basic recipes so that when the need arose, he could cook for his woman. The surest way to win a woman's heart where some skills in the kitchen according to the housekeeper. At that time he just laughed, he never did cook for any woman, definitely not breakfast because he rarely if ever stayed the night after a sexual encountered. Not even during the times he was supposedly a 'boyfriend' to some girl. He just wasn't that type of guy.

But for some reason, just the mere mention of Felicity for her preference for those strawberry pancakes made him want to breakout his long forgotten and still untested kitchen skills, just for her.

In fact it excited him to the point of promising himself that one of these days, he would make her those if she really were partial to them if only to put a smile on her face and do something that special for her.

One of these days he would make that happen, just not today.

His mind wandered yet again to a time sometime in the future when he and Felicity would be having breakfast in bed, which he cooked of course, she swollen with his child the double doors that led to the Queen Mansion gardens which was his mothers pride and joy open as they both enjoyed the spring of flowers in bloom.

He sighed, his head bent because this was a future that was never going to happen.

That his life as Oliver Queen, heir to the Queen fortune was over the moment the gambit had gone down. The Oliver Queen of that time had died that day and with him all the hope and dreams of a future family.

In its place he had embraced his new life fully as Oliver the bratva captain because that was his life now, at least until death finally took him. And that life would never be something Felicity deserved.

* * *

 

"Brother, why are you brooding?" Anatoli asked Oliver handing him a bottle of vodka while he held on to two tumblers.

"I've never realized what kind of master manipulator you were before, but then again I should have known. I mean you wouldn't have become pakhan and stayed the mob leader if you weren't, but sending an innocent woman to her death, that's a new kind of low isn't it."

"Oliver, I've always thought you were smarter than most but if you want to brand me a barbarian who sends women to fight a battle that was meant only for men, then maybe you aren't as smart as I thought you were. It isn't about gender. Our enemies wouldn't stop to discriminate between men, women and even children. This is a war."

"But at what cost!" Oliver said shouting as he stood up to face the pakhan.

Anatoli shook his head, "I had never thought I would see the day when your judgment would be clouded by a woman. But then again the woman in question is quite exceptional. And despite what you think, I do have a fondness for the woman too. She is like a daughter to me. All the more so she is not sheltered but rather exposed to the harsh realities of the world we exist. It would make her even stronger. This is for her as much as this is for the organization."

Oliver narrowed his eyes at the pakhan, because in a way the boss had revealed part of his hand, "she was not meant to stay with us forever. You and even me when I chose to be marked," landing his hand on his shirt that had the bratva tattoo underneath, "chose this life, to die for the brotherhood if needed. She didn't."

Anatoli shrugged, choosing to open the bottle of vodka and take his time to pour out a measured amount of alcohol on each glass and handing Oliver one before he answered, "you are correct. In the beginning it wasn't her choice. But even you would have to agree that no one his keeping her from walking away at this point, that the threat over the head of her mother has long ceased to be her motivation. She has found a family here, and I'd reckon a large part of that is due to you."

"You're twisted."

Anatoli laughed heartily, "so I have been told occasionally. Nonetheless, what I speak off is the truth. It is you who is clouded. But I don't blame you, love, especially young love can be all consuming."

"You don't know what you are talking about," Oliver denied before he drowned the tumbler of vodka offered.

"On the contrary, I've never been more sure of my opinion. Don't get me wrong brother, I've already told you I look at Felicity as the daughter I never had. There is no one else who I would have approved of who deserved her."

"Some father you claim to be if you plan to send her out to war."

"Believe me Oliver, if you weren't in the equation, I won't even consider it. Even if it was the difference between winning and losing this war."

Oliver rubbed his face in frustration, "you're an asshole for passing on that responsibility to me and washing your hands off. A first class one."

"I have been called worst before. I'm doing this because I know you would give up your life for hers, to keep her safe. But do not worry brother, now isn't the right time to send her out. Between you and me, we have time to train her properly. Unfortunately, you lovebirds will have to be apart in a couple of weeks. We have to fight fire with fire before the enemy gains a solid foothold in the northern territory. The north American territory."

"America?"

"Yes Oliver. Very soon it would be time for you to play the shipwrecked survivor. It would be time for you to resurrect Oliver Queen. It is imperative that we take advantage of that window of opportunity."

Assessing the younger mans hesitation he went in for the kill.

"There is no choice to make Oliver. If you and Felicity would have any kind of future that would involve less of this madness, it has to be done. Do it for her."

* * *

 

_Eeekkkkk…..screaming! Did you scream along with me?_


	10. The Rescue

**Author's Note: Firstly, a big thank you to the responses I got from the two chapters I posted last week. Since I missed a couple of weeks I thought I would do a double post the last time.**

**Someone asked me if I was moving the direction of a Season 1 rewrite. Well, when I started this story I sure wasn't going that direction but to clarify it is partially going to be a rewrite, but without the Arrow/Green Arrow stuff. I'm keeping it to the bratva storyline but will be taking liberties in grabbing Season 1 sub-plots and characters.**

**As this chapter and this story progresses, you will also be treated to some of my more favorite Arrow characters, which ones…well, the next chapter (not this one!) will introduce someone who I hope you will all be pleasantly surprised with, another rewrite on the character entry, just because I can take such liberties.**

**It goes without saying that I have fallen in love with writing this story, it's weird for me to say that since I love all my stories, although this one is close to my heart maybe because I'm still not getting the Olicity love currently in Season 5. But I'm a very patient person, I know we will eventually get there in Season 5 I mean why would they throw away something as perfect as that!**

**The usual disclaimers apply. I do not own Arrow or the characters, if I did they 5.01 would have ended with Oliver and Felicity in bed….**

**You can read updates of this story via my tumblr, Archive of Our Own or Fan Fiction. And please, send me comments. They really push me to invest in this story.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to message me thru any of the following:**

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* * *

 

**CROSSFIRE**

**Chapter 10 – The Rescue**

_"Brother, why are you brooding?" Anatoli asked Oliver handing him a bottle of vodka while he held on to two tumblers._

_"I've never realized what kind of master manipulator you were before, but then again I should have known. I mean you wouldn't have become pakhan and stayed the mob leader if you weren't, but sending an innocent woman to her death, that's a new kind of low isn't it."_

_"Oliver, I've always thought you were smarter than most but if you want to brand me a barbarian who sends women to fight a battle that was meant only for men, then maybe you aren't as smart as I thought you were. It isn't about gender. Our enemies wouldn't stop to discriminate between men, women and even children. This is a war."_

_"But at what cost!" Oliver said shouting as he stood up to face the pakhan._

_Anatoli shook his head, "I had never thought I would see the day when your judgment would be clouded by a woman. But then again the woman in question is quite exceptional. And despite what you think, I do have a fondness for the woman too. She is like a daughter to me. All the more so she is not sheltered but rather exposed to the harsh realities of the world we exist. It would make her even stronger. This is for her as much as this is for the organization."_

_Oliver narrowed his eyes at the pakhan, because in a way the boss had revealed part of his hand, "she was not meant to stay with us forever. You and even me when I chose to be marked," landing his hand on his shirt that had the bratva tattoo underneath, "chose this life, to die for the brotherhood if needed. She didn't."_

_Anatoli shrugged, choosing to open the bottle of vodka and take his time to pour out a measured amount of alcohol on each glass and handing Oliver one before he answered, "you are correct. In the beginning it wasn't her choice. But even you would have to agree that no one his keeping her from walking away at this point, that the threat over the head of her mother has long ceased to be her motivation. She has found a family here, and I'd reckon a large part of that is due to you."_

_"You're twisted."_

_Anatoli laughed heartily, "so I have been told occasionally. Nonetheless, what I speak off is the truth. It is you who is clouded. But I don't blame you, love, especially young love can be all consuming."_

_"You don't know what you are talking about," Oliver denied before he drowned the tumbler of vodka offered._

_"On the contrary, I've never been more sure of my opinion. Don't get me wrong brother, I've already told you I look at Felicity as the daughter I never had. There is no one else who I would have approved of who deserved her."_

_"Some father you claim to be if you plan to send her out to war."_

_"Believe me Oliver, if you weren't in the equation, I won't even consider it. Even if it was the difference between winning and losing this war."_

_Oliver rubbed his face in frustration, "you're an asshole for passing on that responsibility to me and washing your hands off. A first class one."_

_"I have been called worst before. I'm doing this because I know you would give up your life for hers, to keep her safe. But do not worry brother, now isn't the right time to send her out. Between you and me, we have time to train her properly. Unfortunately, you lovebirds will have to be apart in a couple of weeks. We have to fight fire with fire before the enemy gains a solid foothold in the northern territory. The north American territory."_

_"America?"_

_"Yes Oliver. Very soon it would be time for you to play the shipwrecked survivor. It would be time for you to resurrect Oliver Queen. It is imperative that we take advantage of that window of opportunity."_

_Assessing the younger mans hesitation he went in for the kill._

_"There is no choice to make Oliver. If you and Felicity would have any kind of future that would involve less of this madness, it has to be done. Do it for her."_

The two weeks had turned into a month of preparation for Oliver but now he was on a russian fishing boat that was to bring him back to Lian Yu.

He was looking out into the ocean. They had at least a couple of more hours until they were to reach their destination. The other men had generally left him alone except for his loyal lieutenants Krug and Krum, but they weren't beside him right now.

Right now it was just he and a view of the sunset.

Which was why he let his thoughts wander back to her, Felicity.

She was a natural. She picked up instructions easily. She was an extraordinary student. And he should have been proud of her achievements except every new skill she picked up drove a nail harder into her faith. The quicker the study that she was, the more he was sure Anatoli would accelerate his plans forward.

Oliver's only consolation was, knowing that indeed the pakhan did have a special fondness for Felicity.

She would be able to defend herself, if it came down to it. She had proven to be more than capable.

Anatoli and he had talked about the plan in detail, at least as far as he where concerned.

Oliver would be transported back to Lian Yu, he would survive there on his own for a couple of weeks then a signal would be given which shall trigger a wave of circumstances. A fishing vessel, chinese because Anatoli appreciated the irony, would rescue him and from there a mysterious hand would guide him back to Starling City.

The power of the bratva and it's story telling wield would ensure that the plan was executed down to the detail.

He had been given a satellite phone by the pakhan. To be used only during very extreme necessity and only between the two of them.

A few minutes later he was making his final preparations to disembark, checking his supplies last minute until finally, Krug, Krum and he were onboard a speed boat taking him to a part of the island that was nearer for him trek his way toward the fuselage which shall serve as his home for the moment.

Anatoli and he had agreed that he would bring an excess of supplies back to Lian Yun and use his time in the island to plant these supplies at differently marked and familiar areas. Both of them wanted to be prepared for extraordinary circumstances that may require them a return to the island.

At least, supplies would be available to make their stay a little more bearable than before.

Oliver had spent his first four days and three nights alone in the island reacclimatizing himself with his old hunts and placing the supplies in strategic locations. With all that done, he was now going through what would be his routine for the next few days.

Wake up before dawn, do his morning exercise which consisted of parkouring using the wilds as his training grounds, leaping off giant vines and having long runs. He missed those days, he now only realized. This was a part of Lian Yu that he had always looked forward to. It was his natural training ground.

Pausing to look up and seeing the giant trees that blocked off the sun, he imagined a time that maybe one day in the future, in a happier time, he would be able to share this with Felicity. He would never wish for her to be stranded on the island with him but maybe a visit, if it were possible? Maybe.

A few days before the day Anatoli and he had agreed for him to be 'discovered' by the fishermen, he received a message from the man telling him they would have to delay his rescue due to 'weather constrains'.

Despite Oliver's disappointment he could not question the rational. The sky was screaming bloody murder and their was no way his signal, a pile of burning wood would be spotted by the fishing vessel, he wasn't even sure if the pile of wood would light given the weather.

So he waited. He had food and he knew how to survive anyway.

And unlike the last time, this time the island seemed to be truly uninhabited, so far.

* * *

 

Felicity was hanging the last of her new wardrobe inside a small walk-in closet. Her new townhouse was a modest 2-bedroom unit with a walk-in closet, which led to a master bath, a small luxury given her entry pay scale into Queen Consolidated. With her mid-level entry, she could afford living the way she did without raising any warning bells and lifestyle checks.

Somehow, Anatoli had this trick up his sleeve, or was it his plan all along?

She had reappeared in Starling City, her name whispered in the ear of the higher ups in Queen Consolidated, Walter Steele in particular as someone pluckable, god she was even inventing words.

Her cover, she never did die during that supposed deadly gunfire on her way to the airport almost a year ago. Instead, she had survived, albeit not injury free, having temporarily lost her memory. When she finally regain her memory she had decided to work far away from Starling City if only to forget her very bad near death experience.

Recent circumstances however, had allowed Queen Consolidated a second opportunity at signing her up when the rumor was tossed around that her boss and employer, Inter-Atlantic Consolidated Industries, a company that had a lot of bratva money poured into it, had made her work situation impossible due to personal reasons.

The personal reason was that her boss had tried to sexually compromise her therefore making it uncomfortable for her to work in that environment despite the opportunities offered her.

Last week Felicity had flown back to Starling City, gotten an interview with human resources then was immediately endorsed the same day via a special appointment with current Queen Consolidated COO Walter Steele then CEO Moira Queen.

At the end of the day she was offered five times the salary she was offered a few months back when she was first signed with QC. Wow, Anatoli definitely made things happen, she thought.

Krug and Krum had made the journey to America with her, which was sweet of Anatoli although she was sure Oliver had a lot to do with that too. Their cover not so surprisingly was that of a gay couple, fashion designers from Russia, keeping their cover as close to reality as possible because duh, leave it to Anatoli to know even little secrets like the fact that those two were an actual couple in real life!

An actual gay bratva couple, how could Anatoli even!

Well Anatoli was a modern and progressive a leader. No wonder he was where he was.

It was a Friday. She would be starting work officially on Monday. Tonight however, she, Krug and Krum would be hanging out together because did she mention that she was actually next door neighbors with the gay bratva couple!

Only Anatoli could accomplish such a feat, Felicity thought shaking her head.

As excitement as she was, her exuberance was tempered by a phone call from the mob boss that informed her Oliver's extraction from Lian Yu would be delayed. He tried to appease her by telling her this was actually a good thing because then this would give her the chance to establish herself within Queen Consolidated before Oliver stepped foot back into Starling City.

She would never put it passed the mob leader to have this planned all along.

* * *

 

Felicity counted the days. The weeks had turned to a month, then two months.

Her last memories of her times with Oliver had faded into echoes of the past that figured in her dreams. Sweet Dreams.

* * *

 

The night before Oliver had left for Lian Yu, they had dinner together. Orchestrated by Anatoli knowing that this would calm both of them.

Oliver welcomed this gift by the boss although in the back of his mind he knew this came with strings attached.

He did nothing but stare at Felicity intensely that night making her almost uncomfortable because it felt like he was memorizing every detail of her face.

The whole evening he had felt uneven.

Before that dinner, all they had done to that point was kiss, sometimes sweet, sometimes with intensity that had him feeling like he wanted to inhaling her whole.

As much as Oliver wanted to bring this to the next level, worship her whole body he didn't want the parting memory they had of one another to be about that, leave her with the impression that all he was after was just one night of passion with her then be gone the next day.

When, because by this time he accepted that it was a when and not an, if. When it would finally happen he wanted it to be for the right reasons. That his night of making sweet love to Felicity wouldn't be just one night, but it would be the first of many, many nights together.

So at the end of the night, he walked her to her room, which was just the opposite of his in their own private wing courtesy of Anatoli leaving her with just a chase kiss.

Or at least what he initiated was a chase kiss that quickly escalated into something hot and heavy as Felicity pressed herself unto him, her palm caressing his stubble that he had let grow out into the beginning of a beard in preparation for Lian Yu.

"Oliver."

He closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around her even tighter as he brushed his tongue against her lower lip before he bit it gently obtaining an almost obscene moan from her.

He knew it was up to him to pull back because she was as affected as he was, if not more, it would be easy for him to throw all his caution away and just push her inside her room and do what both of them apparently needed to happen.

But the miniscule part of his brain that was still sane pushed its way up until it gave him the strength to pull away from her, earning a sigh of disappointed from her as they both tried to catch their breaths.

He cupped her cheek, his heart warmed as she leaned into his palm.

"Felicity, there is nothing I want more than to show you how much you have become the center of my world the short time I have know you. You captivated me almost immediately. For the longest time I have accepted the hand I had been dealt with, a life deprived of light. But then you came along unexpectedly."

He smiled still caressing her cheek with his thumb before he run that same thumb over her swollen lips, his doing.

"Will you wait for me? I know that in this crazy life we both have, their may never be a right time but soon Felicity. When I am settled back as Oliver Queen the heir to the Queen fortune," he laughed nervously at his description of himself, "when I have something more than just this," he gestured to himself as if it said everything, "to offer. I'd want there to be an us."

A tear escaped Felicity's face that was quickly caught by his thumb that was still hovering over her cheek, "Oliver…"

His fingers pressed into her lips to stop whatever it was she was saying, "you don't have to say anything right now. I just want you to think about it. I'll wait for your answer when we see each other again. I'll be waiting for you."

He caught her hand and pressed it into his chest, over his heart.

"This is yours Felicity Meghan Smoak."

"Oliver," Felicity whispered, her emotions all over the place at his declaration.

"Shhh," he leaned in and kissed her temple with his palm still above hers over his heart, "I'll keep it safe for you. And I'll see you soon."

Without warning he caught her lips against his for one last time before he deliberately pushed her away, "I have to do this now, walk away. Because if I stay another minute I won't be able to leave and I have to. I'm doing this for us." He finished, using the same conversation he had with Anatoli this time on Felicity.

"This is for us," he said one last time before slowly he let go of her hand until only the tips of their fingers touched.

Before he fully stepped out of her room he heard her quietly say, "my heart is yours too, even if you refuse to take it now."

The moment he stepped out of her room and closed her door he heard a thud making him close his eyes at to shutdown his emotions.

He had to. This was the only way he could do this. He reminded himself he was doing it for the right reasons, he was leaving her now for a future of tomorrows together.

Inside her room Felicity had fallen on the floor, the weight of Oliver's exit was too much for her. Her hands were over her eyes more a reflex action that an attempt to wipe away tears that just kept on coming.

She had to be strong not only for herself, but for Oliver too.

He was right after all, despite Anatoli's very obvious support. This wasn't the kind of life for them to build a future in.

She knew Oliver was doing his part. She had to do hers too.

She believed him when he said they would find each other when he was back in Starling City.

* * *

 

He brushed his thumb against a picture, the picture of the woman who had stolen his heart, Felicity.

He had taken a stolen shot of her on his phone one day and had Krug and Krum print it.

Her picture kept him warm as he spent another night alone in Lian Yu, roasting his meal, a bird that he had caught relishing a fresh meal instead of his canned rations.

This was a small sacrifice for the future with Felicity that awaited them.

A faint sound attracted Oliver's attention toward a direction that was totally darkened. He quickly pocketed his most precious treasure, her picture inside his pocket.

By this time, he was able to distinguish between animal sounds and the whish wash of foliage around him definitely was not animal.

People.

Someone else, or a group of someone else was there. Dread filled him as he took a long breath.

This was not part of the plan.

Without even thinking, he kicked the dirt next to his shoe to kill the fire he was roasting his dinner on then took a stick he had fashion as a weapon.

He would use the crude weapons he had made first before he would defer to his hidden modern arsenal. It was better to not attract attention, keep within his 'story' as much as he could as he prepared to face the unknown intruder.

* * *

 

_Eekkk…..surprise! Guess who..._


End file.
